Angel of Music
by mockingjay08
Summary: Starting from when she first came to the opera house as a little girl, this story follows Christine Daae from when she first met the Phantom. It goes past from where the 2004 movie ends, and tells the story from different point of view. Rated M for sexual content as Christine gets older, rape, and occasional language. Please leave a comment!
1. Father Promised

There was a newcomer at the opera house, and therefore he just had to see who it was. It wasn't hard to find whoever it was, because he could hear the newcomer crying, and quite loudly as well.

"Madame Giry, where's my Angel? The Angel of Music Daddy promised me-where is he?" a little girl's voice cried as she leaned into the older woman's arms.

The young man looked through the hole where he could see everything that happened in the small seven-by-seven room with two small beds in it. He could see in, but no one would be able to see him.

"Shh, child. Your Angel of Music will come one day. First you need to get settled in. This is your home now, dear", the woman pulled the little girl tighter.

In his head, the figure snorted. This little girl seemed so spoiled. She just sounded so demanding, and where was her father anyway? She was beautiful, but only in a little girl sort of way. Besides, he knew he would never have a chance to marry or be in love, so why even think about it?

"Mother, should I begin to unpack Christine's things?" another little girl with blond hair sweetly asked the woman.

He had seen her before, and knew that she lived here, but he didn't care about her enough to actually know her name. He had more important things to do, and knew that he shouldn't be wasting his time here.

The mysterious figure left his post at the small hole, and wandered off to more important business that actually concerned him.

"Yes, Meg. Just place her things next to yours-they'll fit. Good girl, and thank you", Meg's mother told her, still comforting the crying other little girl-Christine, her name was.

"I don't want this to be my home, though. I need to go back to our house. Daddy would want me to keep our house the way it was", Christine said, a determined look on her face. She wriggled out of Madame Giry's arms.

"Christine, look at me. Please listen. Your father wanted you to live here, at the opera house with Meg and me. He wanted you to learn music like he had. He wanted you here, I swear", Madame Giry said. She took Christine's shoulders in her hands and looked her straight in the eyes. Christine looked to the side, avoiding her gaze.

_"Please be careful with Christine, Antoinette. She's very fragile and shy. I want her to be with you when I die, and for you to be almost like an adopted mother to her. She doesn't like looking people in the eyes, as well. I haven't figured out why yet, but I'm hoping that you will", Christine's father looked at Madame Giry._

That was what Christine's father had told Madame Giry the day of his death. He died later that afternoon, today, as a matter of fact. He had been certain that Christine not looking people in the eyes wasn't just because she was shy, but because of some other reason.

Madame Giry sighed. They had been so close, Christine and her father. Christine had had to watch her father die ever so slowly, causing even more pain to her when he did die.

Christine eyes widened, the closest thing to a smile since her father had gotten ill. "Are you sure, Madame Giry? My father told me that whenever someone says 'swear' they should really mean it, and to know if you trust them or not", the little girl said.

Madame Giry moved a chestnut curl out of Christine's face. "Your father taught you well, Christine Daae. Now please, get some sleep. Meg is right here, but I will be going to sleep somewhere else. Do you think you can manage that?" Madame Giry got up from the small bed they had been sitting on and walked over to the door.

"Yes, Madame Giry. I will", Christine said. Madame Giry kissed Meg goodnight and then quietly left.

Meg settled into bed perfectly fine, but Christine was having a hard time trying to get to sleep.

Now that his unfinished business was finally completed, the young man returned to the small hole leading into the two girls' bedroom. He was interested to know more about this little girl.

"Meg, why did Daddy have to die?" Christine sat up and looked at Meg, who then also sat up.

The lonely figure blinked back in surprise. He didn't know why, but he thought that this little girl was just too spoiled to have a deceased father. The way she said it, though. So innocent and unknowing. The figure closed his eyes, feeling oddly sympathetic for this other girl. He had never felt sympathy for another creature before, so this was a rare feeling.

The closer he looked, the better he could see that this little girl-he still didn't know her name yet-was crying, silent tears sliding down her cheeks.

"I don't know, Christine. I guess it's just the way the world works. I'm sorry Christine, but I'm sleepy and I want to go back to sleep", Meg said apologetically. She lay back down in bed.

"Oh", was all Christine could say in response.

Meg's breath soon turned into slow, melodic breathing, indicating that she had gone to sleep. Christine, however, was still sitting up in bed, wide awake.

The figure was curious to see what this little girl was going to do-he knew that she wouldn't just sit there the whole night.

After at least an hour, Christine quietly got up, mumbling softly about an Angel of Music.

The figure stirred, almost asleep himself, but awakening to the sound of the little girl. He knew her as Christine, now. He laughed at himself for not bringing himself to leave sooner. Now he had the time to spend watching little girls trying to get to sleep?

She walked far, clearly not knowing where she was going. The figure followed her, slowly and steadily, but keeping pace far behind her.

After a while of wandering, the it looked like Christine was looking for a way out. She soon gave up, and tired, simply lay down on cold stone floor. Her eyes soon closed.

The figure knew of how much commotion would be caused when Madame Giry would wake up to find this little girl missing. He sighed, and later regretted what he was about to do next.

He walked up, his stealth not wakening the slumbering little girl. He gently put her hand on her shoulder, and she stirred awake.

"Angel?" was the first thing she said.

"No... Christine. Don't open your eyes. This is your... Angel. Your Angel of Music. If you open your eyes, I will disappear forever. I'm going to take you back to your room, alright?" he gently asked her. He shunned himself for the stupid lies he made up. So silly, so childish.

"Angel! It is you. I knew you would come. Oh, thank you!", Christine said, still not opening her eyes as he told her to.

He picked her up and carried her back to her room. The whole way there, she rested her head firmly against his chest. His eyes stung and he realized he was crying. He was crying because he realized that no human being had ever felt so trusting, so comfortable with him. Even though she had never seen his horrid face, he knew that this girl was different, and that she _didn't_ care about how he looked.

He lay her into her bed, cautiously and carefully. She smiled, her eyes still closed. "Thank you Angel", she whispered to him.

She magically found his cheek-luckily the unmasked side-and kissed him gently. She lay back down into her bed and settled into her pillow. Christine was so tired that she fell asleep almost right away.

The lonely figure left her, touching his own hand to the cheek she had just kissed. How had she not been afraid? How had she been so trusting? No one had ever done anything to him like that; so gentle, so kind and loving.

He went to sleep that night knowing that there was a little girl above him, probably dreaming about her Angel of Music.


	2. A Lulluby

Christine woke up the next morning, sunlight filtering through the window and a smile on her pretty face.

Meg, who was getting dressed was surprised to see Christine smiled. She was a little girl too, but she was old enough to realize that Christine had not smiled in a long time. "Christine, you're smiling! What had happened?" she asked softly.

Of course the same figure was secretly peering into her room, but Christine didn't realize it. He felt his fondness for the small child grow even more as he saw her glowing, beautiful smile grow across her face.

"My Angel, Meg! He came to me last night, I know it! It's what Daddy had promised me", she said, quickly getting out of bed and getting dressed.

Once again, he felt tears fall down his face. How had he given this child so much happiness? Nothing like that had ever happened to him before; he had only caused people to feel uncomfortable, frightened, and disgusted whenever he was around them.

"Really Christine? That's wonderful", Meg believed her. Her eyes were soon also glowing with happiness, happy that her friend was pretty much back to normal and amazed that an angel had really visited her.

Madame Giry entered the room, also surprised to see Christine smiling once more.

"Mother, Christine was visited by her Angel last night! I was asleep when it happened, but she told me", Meg said excitedly to her mother, hugging her.

"That's wonderful Christine", Madame Giry said. She knew that it was probably just a dream, but she was happy to see Christine like this again.

"Meg, today I would like you to show Christine around the opera house. Not all of it, just the places she will need to know. I think you know you're way around well enough. Finish getting dressed, girls. And then meet me for breakfast", Madame Giry said, and then left.

She stepped outside. "If they get lost, I expect you to tell me somehow. Please", Madame Giry said to the wall of nothingness.

She knew that he was there, and that he would do what she asked. That was what he had promised her when she first brought him here, and he hadn't dropped that promise once.

He went off with a swish of his cape in consent, getting back to his morning business about the opera house.

The rest of the day, Meg showed Christine around the opera house. They luckily did not get lost, but the figure still watched over them, making sure of their safety. He just couldn't seem to keep away from the new little girl, Christine.

Once again, it was nighttime, and Christine was, once again, having a hard time getting to sleep.

The figure sighed and quietly came to her without being seen. Was this going to become a nightly thing?

"Christine, close your eyes. It's your Angel", he said gently putting is hand on her shoulder.

"My eyes are closed now. Are we going somewhere?" she asked him.

He helped her get out of bed and took her hand. Her hand was so warm, soft, and small in his leather gloved hand.

"Yes, Christine. We're just going for a walk", he said. He meant it, but he just wanted to become closer to this little girl.

"Alright. But Angel, I can't see. How am I supposed to walk? Why can't I look at you?" she asked innocently, still holding tightly to his own hand and her eyes still closed.

He sighed, realizing his mistake. He certainly didn't want her to see him yet, but he knew that she would have to someday, anyway.

"Alright Christine, but before you do I need to tell you something. I have a mask on half of my face. Don't worry about it, but don't forget that I am still your Angel. You may open your eyes now", he said, waiting for a gasp of horror, a scream, anything.

But he heard nothing. He looked closer to make sure her eyes were actually open. To his surprise they were.

"I like it. You're pretty, Angel", she said, moving closer to him and firmly holding his hand. He was surprised, but promised himself that he would show no emotion.

He led her deep into the opera house, and almost to the catacombs, when he stopped. No, he wouldn't show her this yet. Not now.

"We're going to go back now, Christine. Is that alright?" he asked her.

"Yes. I'm sleepy", she yawned. He took her in his arms, once again carrying her to her room. He stopped at a bench somewhere along the way and sang her a lullaby. He had wanted to sing her to sleep, but knew he couldn't because Meg would be sleeping there.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination", he began. When he finished, he thought Christine was asleep, as her eyes were closed and she hadn't stirred.

But when he sang the last word, her eyes fluttered open. "That was pretty Angel. You're a good singer. Maybe you could teach me one day", Christine said.

He carried her to her room and laid her in her bed, ending once again with a kiss on his cheek from Christine. And once again, he felt like he was actually needed.

That night she had the strangest dream. She was at the opera house, and she could see ballerinas twirling. There was one ballerina, and she couldn't see her face. It was all blurry. Then this man came, he sounded nice, but she couldn't see his face either. Then this woman started to sing terribly, and the stage fell on her, and there was so much commotion. Two of the ballerinas' faces were blurred out, and she recognized no one, but then a familiar voice spoke, but so distant... and she woke up.

That night he had the strangest dream. He was holding a rope, and his mask was off. To his astonishment there were two other people in the room, but he couldn't quite make out their faces. He thought it was a woman and another man, he put the noose around the man's neck. The woman wore a wedding dress, he just didn't understand why. She advanced on him, and he got frightened, she was so close (how could she bare it if he didn't have his mask on?) and then he woke up, pondering the strange dream.

He rarely dreamed, except for nightmares, which usually reflected his horrible past. But this dream was like... a story.


	3. To Christine

The next day, Christine woke up to find a pretty daisy on the table in their room. It was tied with a black ribbon, which seemed out of place for the light, airy flower, but she enjoyed it anyway.

She picked it up and rolled it between her fingers, finding a small ripped off piece of parchment attached to the ribbon. It said, "To Christine Daae. From your Angel of Music". The writing was so elegant, Christine kept the small tag in her petticoat pocket and kept it there for as long as she could remember.

The little girl filled a cup with water from the wash bowl and put the daisy in it. She was just delighted that her Angel visited her so often, and that he actually came.

Madame Giry came in again to tell them of their day ahead.

"Madame Giry, look at the daisy my Angel gave me. He gave me this little note, too", Christine hugged her, showing her the presents.

The older woman took one look at the daisy, and noticed the black ribbon. She paled, but when she read the note, she paled even more, and almost started to feel faint.

"Mother are you alright?" Meg rushed up to her mother and put her hand on her arm.

"Yes, I'm alright", she said sighing. _Why did he have to get involved with Christine?_ she thought as Meg led her to a chair.

"So, girls. This morning will be spent making your beds and doing things all little girls should be doing, such as playing. But around noon, we'll begin our lessons. After that, you'll begin to rehearse for the children parts of the play that is coming up", Madame Giry said, regaining her confidence and self esteem back.

Meg groaned, Because I cannot send you to a school, I'll be giving you the same lessons you would learn if you did go to school-just at the opera house. And the play has a few parts with children involved, and because you and Meg are the only children in the opera house, the parts are automatically yours", Madame Giry explained.

Meg and Christine ate breakfast in their rooms like everybody else did (dinner was eaten at a big hall with the whole entire opera staff. Christine and Meg thought it quite grand). Afterwards, the two girls made their beds and tidied up their rooms.

Christine smiled at her daisy perched on the table. "That's a wonderful daisy, Christine. Your Angel gave it to you, didn't he? It makes the room much prettier", Meg said, sitting next to Christine on her bed.

"Yes, it was my Angel. He's so pretty Meg. I wish you could meet him, but I don't think he would want you to", Christine said thoughtfully. She really did want to show her Angel to Meg, but he had said that he was just for her.

"That's alright. He's your special Angel that your father sent, so he's just for you", Meg explained with serious eyes.

"I'm going to go to the chapel to light a candle for my father", Christine said, standing up and beginning to brush her hair.

"Would you like me to go with you?" Meg said, also arising.

"No, it's alright. I know my way now". Christine tied her hair back with a pink bow that matched her simple but pretty dress.

Meg waved goodbye to Christine as she walked out. She didn't expect to see her Angel now, because he seemed to only come during the nighttime.

She lit a candle for her father and said a prayer. As it continued to burn, she heard the swish of fabric and looked up to see her Angel.

She could see him much clearer now, and saw that he wasn't as old as she had thought. He had slicked back black hair, and a hard face, and a sturdy body. He was dressed all in black expect for a white shirt under his coat. He had a cape that Christine admired. To her, he seemed about a young man, maybe around twenty years old. But that didn't matter, because he was her Angel just the same.

"I didn't think you would come during the day". Christine looked at him with such fondness. He thought that she was such a beautiful child.

"I just wanted to see you, Christine", he said. She ran up to him and hugged him. He was taken by surprise and hesitantly hugged her back.

She let go and he pushed a curl out of her face, staring at her wide eyes that held so much admiration for him. He, the one who had grown up with the life that no one could ever dream to be so horrible.

He walked with her back to her room, and left her when they reached her door, for he didn't want to see Meg. Meg had been there longer than Christine, and she would surely realize who he really was.

Christine continued throughout the rest of her day, knowing that her Angel of Music was most likely watching her. Although he knew he had much more important things to attend to, he couldn't help but make sure she was alright and that he could see her as she performed her tasks.


	4. Growing Up

Three years later, Christine was once again lighting a candle for her father as she did either every morning or every evening.

Today she had just finished her first performance as an actual ballet dancer. She knew how important that was, as there were very important people in the crowd. There was the Duchess of Cambridge, and other much more important people. Christine thought her father would be very proud of her.

As far as her Angel of Music was concerned, Christine had almost forgotten about him, as she hadn't seen him for a year and a half.

Christine had also discovered one of the many secrets the opera house held. There was an opera ghost, but Christine had never heard him or seen him. She didn't even know if it was real, and was only able to take the word of the chorus girls, who weren't very reliable themselves.

She left the chapel, finished with the prayer to her father. She sang a tune he had taught her so long ago. She was surprised as it came out of her mouth, for she had not sang ever since her father died. The now thirteen year old girl was scared that she would be so sad if she ever heard any of those songs again, but she was feeling particularly happy and didn't mind singing them.

What she didn't know was that her Angel of Music was still constantly watching over her, just from a distance. He knew that she was growing up into a young woman of great beauty, and didn't want to mess up or interfere with her life. He was aware of his past and knew the damage it could do if she found out his secret.

His love started to grow for her, but what he didn't realize was that it was no longer the love for a little girl. He watched her through her mirror every night, but turned away with embarrassment every time she undressed.

She had started to wear a corset, and that shamed him even more if he dared to watch her through the mirror, until he finally stopped watching her all the time as she got dressed and undressed.

The little girl he had held in his arms three years ago had become a young woman, developing and growing before his own eyes.

But now, as she sang, he heard her voice for the first time. The notes were clear, beautiful, and sweet, and he realized that he just had to see her because of it.

He got out of his hiding spot and walked over to her.

"Who are you?" she asked at first, making him sad when he realized that she had probably forgotten about him. "Oh, it's you, Angel! You've finally come back. Oh, I didn't recognize you at first", she said and ran to hug him.

He put his hand on the small of her back like he had when she had hugged him as a little girl. He felt her developing curves and quickly withdrew his hand and placed it on her shoulder.

Luckily Christine didn't realize this awkward gesture and looked at him once more with glittering eyes. "Angel, where have you been? I've missed you so much, and I've needed you more than ever", she exclaimed.

He grunted. "From the way you greeted me when I walked in, you seemed to have forgotten about me Christine", he said.

Tears almost came to her eyes. "I'm sorry I said that. With rumors of the Opera Ghost, I don't know who might creep up on me", she explained.

A worried look crossed his face. She could not find out about his true identity. Not yet, anyway. "Have you ever seen him yourself?" she asked him curiously.

He cleared his throat. "No, Christine, And don't believe in him-it's not good for girls like you to", he said.

She frowned. "But I've seen what he's done-Angel, apparitions from your imagination don't kill people. And what kind of girl am I?" she asked, wondering if it was an insult or a compliment.

"Oh, Christine. You're a wonderful girl, and almost a young woman. I fear that we are growing apart as you get older. Soon, I will be just a faint memory in your mind, and nothing else", he said, totally changing the subject.

"No, Angel. Please, I didn't mean it. Don't leave me", she said begging him and tears falling silently down her cheeks.

He cleared his throat again and looked away. She didn't realize how beautiful she looked like that.

"Angel of Music, please don't leave me. Stay with me sweet, Angel", she sang to him, reminding him of why he was here in the first place.

"Child", he said, taking her soft face in his hands. "The reason I came here today was not a usual one. I heard you sing earlier", he began, waiting for her reaction.

Except the very serious look in her pretty eyes, she said nothing. He continued. "_You_ sing like an angel, Christine. I want to teach you more so your voice grows as you do. One day you will be very well known throughout the opera house; I just know it. Allow me to teach you what I know".

Christine looked confused and modest. "Angel, you have such a beautiful voice yourself. It is nothing compared to mine. I would truly love to be your student, but only because you think that I am able to. I would've never thought that I could sing, but with your guidance, I know I will", she said bashfully. A rose color flushed onto her cheeks, making him hold in his gasp at her amazing beauty.

He shook the feeling off. He was her Angel, a fatherly figure, and now her teacher. He couldn't have these kinds of feelings for her.

He looked deep into her golden brown eyes. She didn't flinch a bit, making him proud that she was no longer afraid to look people in the eyes. "Christine, I know you are exhausted from your great performance today, but please allow me to take some of your night away for me to teach you", he almost begged her.

Now that he was entranced by her young beauty, he couldn't bare to let her leave just yet.

"Let me get dressed and make sure that Meg is asleep before I leave. But Angel, I am not tired, and you may have me as your faithful pupil for as long as needed", she said humbly. She had been surprised that he had wanted to begin right away, but her Angel was always unexpected.

He hid his blush from her as he thought of her getting dressed. "Alright, but make it quick. Meet me back here as soon as you can", he told her, realizing that she was still in her skimpy ballet costume from her performance, making him even more flushed as he looked at it.

Christine ran to her room, not wanting to make her Angel wait and just wanting to be with him for as long as possible.

Luckily Meg was fast asleep. Christine didn't know whether to change into her nightgown or her day dress, but decided to put on a simple dress. It was like she was going to school, because she was going to be taught.

Christine went back to the chapel where he was waiting. He took her hand in his gloved one and led her into his lair. He had decided to finally take her there as soon as he confirmed that she had never seen the Phantom of the Opera.

Instead of feeling like a child's hand, the hand he had not held in so long now felt slender and womanly, once again reminding him of how fast she was growing up.

"Angel, where are you taking me?" she asked as he rushed her along.

"Where we are able to practice in peace", was all he said, and she said no more for the rest of the journey down.

They soon came across a lake, and a beautiful little rowboat lay waiting for them. He helped her into the boat and paddled as she sat there, mind searching for where she was, but she didn't know.

They had their lesson in a beautiful place full of candles and more. He taught her until late in the night, when it became the early morning of the next day.

He once again laid her to bed, but like she used to do, Christine didn't kiss him on the cheek. Instead she fell right asleep. He guessed that she was tired, but that horrible aching feeling came back to him, reminding him that they were growing apart already.


	5. Don't Leave, Please

The next morning Christine woke up much later in the morning than she usually did. She heard the sound of voices in her room and was surprised to see Meg and Madame Giry there. They were talking in worried voices.

Madame Giry was the first to see her awake and quickly walked over to her. "How are you doing Christine? Do you feel ill? We were worried that you were, because you slept so late", she said.

Christine smiled. "No, I'm perfectly fine. I apologize for scaring you so much, though", she said. She remembered how late she was out last night with her Angel. Speaking of him, he had acted very queerly last night, almost as if he was afraid of her. She shrugged off the thought and quickly got dressed.

"Christine, someone left this for you", Meg said, handing Christine something. She looked at it and her heart almost stopped. It was like the daisy her Angel had given her three years ago. Only this time it was a red rose with a black ribbon tied around it.

She looked at it, just standing there and looking at it. A rose. Not a daisy, which was a symbol of innocence and happiness. But a rose, which was a symbol of love. Of love.

Christine couldn't believe it. It had the same note attached as the daisy, so she knew that it was from her Angel. But that couldn't be right. Her Angel was her guide and guardian; her protector. He wasn't supposed to be someone she loved, like a husband.

She was confused and frightened. This wasn't supposed to happen. She dreaded the promised music lesson planned with her Angel later that night.

When that night came, Christine made sure to keep herself calm, but it was extremely difficult knowing that her Angel was right there.

"What's the matter, Christine?" he asked, gently his hand on her hand. She flinched. She hadn't meant to, but she did out of instinct.

He sensed this movement, and became heartbroken. Did she finally find out that he was the Phantom? This was horrible...

"I'm sorry, Angel. I just have a lot of things on my mind", she said, not looking him in the eyes once more.

"Alright. Since your so distracted, we'll cut our lesson short tonight", he said briskly and stood up.

"I'm sorry Angel. Please, we can continue", she said, worried that he was mad.

He himself wanted to be alone tonight after what had just happened so he could think it over. "No, Christine. You should go back. I'll take you", he said.

She consented and left with him to go back to her room for the night. When he put her to bed, she didn't want to kiss his cheek as she always did.

"What is the matter with you, Angel? You've been acting so different lately", she finally approached him with the question she had been wanting to ask him all night.

He felt his blood run cold. This was what he had been dreading all night. "I could say the same for you", he said, avoiding her question.

"That's only because I'm worried about you", she replied.

He sighed and told her-although he didn't tell her all of it. "We are growing apart, Christine. I can feel it, and have seen how you are so different around me now. It's understandable though, as you are almost a young woman of fourteen. This will probably even be our last night together", he said sadly, only partly acting.

Christine looked at him worriedly. "You don't really think so, do you Angel? Oh, please. Not the last visit!" she begged him, her voice quaking and her eyes pleading.

He looked away, almost not able to control himself. "Christine, we can't go on. You still have quite much of your life ahead of you".

"Please, Angel. You are now even my teacher! I still have so much to learn from you, how am I supposed to go along by myself?" She said, horrified at the thought of not seeing her Angel anymore.

He sighed once more and wiped his brow. She was coming up with all these points he hadn't even thought of. But she was right. He _was_ the one who had said he would continue to teach her and he knew that if he did continue, her voice would be even more beautiful than it already was. He didn't want such talent to go to waste just because it was awkward.

"Christine, listen to me", he said, grabbing her shoulders tightly, making her chest rise faster and her eyes open wider with fright.

"I'll still teach you, but I will now be strictly your teacher, nothing else. When you are finally taught enough, we won't see each other anymore. Is that understood?" he said, lightening his grip when he saw how scared she was.

Could she really do it, though? It was only last night that she had been terrified and terribly frightened of this man. She knew he loved her, and considering the circumstances, that could be bad.

She looked away, trying to decide. He noticed this and his heart broke. She was going to say no, he just knew it.

But her answer surprised her. "Angel, for you, I will continue and do as you say", she gulped back tears. The pressure had just been too much.

He lay her down back into her bed and settled her in.

"I'm going to give you something, Christine", he told her, sitting at her bedside.

She closed her eyes in fear. He leaned down and kissed her full on the lips. The kiss was short and lasted only about a few seconds, but it spoke for itself.

He left without a word and left her alone with Meg sleeping on the other side of the room. The kiss had confirmed her thought. Her Angel of Music loved her.


	6. My Angel

**I'm sorry a lot of this will be repeating a lot of the stuff from the movie, but I felt that it was essential to continue the relationship between Christine and Erik. This mostly tells things the movie DID NOT point out, and I switched some things around to my liking. The whole story is not going to be a repeat of the movie, so please read on. :) By the way, this is where things get... mature. I'm going to continue this story, past where the movie ends. I do not own any of the characters, songs, or ideas. **

Their visits to each other for voice lessons did indeed continue, but they slowly turned from and everyday thing to weekly, and then two a month, once a month, until he stopped visiting her altogether.

It wasn't that he no longer wanted to see her, but quite the opposite. He felt inappropriate around her, ad she was going through an awkward stage in her life anyways.

It was the night of her sixteenth birthday when she finally saw him, the Phantom of the Opera. At first, she thought she was just imagining things, but then she realized that it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

That morning, Christine woke up to see her friend Meg shaking her awake. "Hurry, Christine. We're going to be rehearsing this morning. _Hannibal_, remember? Mother wants us to be there right away", she said when she saw Christine's eyes open.

Christine, remembering the rehearsal, threw back the covers and hurried into her light, gossamer costume for _Hannibal._

Meg led her at a fast pace to where her Mother and the rest of the ballerinas were waiting impatiently.

"Meg, Christine. As ballerinas, you are expected to be prompt at the exact time you were asked to. I told you two, along with all the other ballerinas who did do as they were asked, to be here ten minutes ago", Madame Giry scolded them.

They hung their heads, ashamed. It was her fault for not getting up in time, and Christine promised herself to apologize to Meg later.

But still, she was amazed that all the other ballerinas were able to make it on time. She knew what the majority of them did at the night, just to earn more money than they already earned. It was a wonder that Madame Giry hadn't scolded them yet for selling themselves as prostitutes about every night.

"Now, go put rosin on your shoes, and expect you to all be at the actual rehearsal after you have done that. Go now", Madame Giry commanded.

Excitement fluttered through Meg's and Christine's minds. It was always so wonderful, feeling pride that they were able to be in the famous Opera Populaire. They fled down the swirling iron stairs and dipped their feet into the powder that kept them from slipping as they danced.

They looked at each other in disgust as they heard the lead soprano, Carlotta, warming up. Her croaking voice echoed throughout most of the opera house. Christine giggled with Meg when they both saw the maids stuffing their ears with cotton to keep out the noise.

Right before their cue came on, the ballerinas were interrupted by three men that walked in. One of them was the current managers of the opera house, but the other two, no one recognized.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Sorry to interrupt today's rehearsal, but I have important news that will effect each and every one of you", he raised his hands to stop all of their chattering and Carlotta's singing.

"As you know, there has been rumors of my apparent retirement. Those have all been true.." he continued, and was interrupted by Carlotta.

"Ha! I told you so!" she said, sticking her nose in the air. No one commented on how it certainly didn't help her appearance.

"And so I bring to you, the two new manager of the opera house-Monsieur Firmin, and Monsieur Andre!" he said with a flourish, motioning to the two men standing next to him.

Monsieur Frimin had slicked back black hair that was starting to grow white next to his face. Monsieur Andre had a goatee and all of his hair was white. He was quite a bit shorter as well.

"Thank you so much for that warm welcome. May we introduce our new Patron-the Vicomte de Changy!" Monsieur Firmin introduced.

Christine clapped along with all the others, but when she saw the Vicomte, her heart almost stopped. "It's Raoul", she whispered.

"What's that, Christine?" Meg asked.

"It's Raoul. We were friends when he lived by the sea", she looked him up and down-he had changed! "I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts", she blushed and looked down.

"Oh Christine, he's so handsome!", Meg whispered. Carlotta walked up to the Vicomte and offered her hand to kiss.

Out of politeness, he did so, but the look on his face didn't show any affection.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your rehearsal. Please forgive me, and let me allow you to continue", he said, and walked right past Christine without noticing her.

Meg looked sympathetically at Christine. "He wouldn't recognize me", Christine said softy.

"He loves me. He loves me, loves me loves me", Carlotta said about Raoul. "Let me sing an aria for you", Carlotta said to the two new managers.

Christine had almost completely forgotten about her Angel by now, but he stood in the shadows, watching her. This new man, this Raoul de Changy. He wouldn't let Christine get involved with this man. Not now, not ever. She was his.

Carlotta's screeching voice filled the opera house once more, and he knew it was time to act; time to show his protégée to the world.

He quickly undid the ropes that held the scenery with nimble, experienced fingers. The stage soon came collapsing onto Carlotta, who was still singing her aria to the new managers.

"Ahh!" everyone screamed except Carlotta, who hadn't seen it coming and it had already hit her before she realized what was happening.

Everyone rushed to the prima donna, knowing that if they didn't now, they would have to explain why they didn't later.

The two managers looked at each other, knowing that this was what they had bargained for when they got the job.

"Mademoiselle Carlotta, these things do happen!" Monsieur Andre assured her, putting his hand on her arm. She shrugged it off cruelly.

"'These things do happen'. Mah! These things _do not_ happen. Piangi, _lasciamo_!" she said, her native Italian tongue coming out in her anger.

Silently from above, he chuckled at her expression. He left with a swish of his dark cape.

Christine looked up, wondering who could have done this. She gasped as she saw the movement, and caught a glimpse of his face.

It was her Angel! Meg pointed up, seeing the same thing. "It's him. The Phantom of the Opera", she said, her eyes wide.

Christine felt her own eyes grow wide. The Phantom? No, it couldn't be. It was her Angel, her Angel of Music. He would never do a thing like that to anyone. Besides, she had only caught a _glimpse_ of his face, so she couldn't be sure that it was her Angel.

But in the back of her mind, Christine couldn't deny seeing that white mask...

"Amateurs!" Piangi said, and than stormed off with Carlotta.

"What are we going to do?!" said the conductor.

"Well surely there must be an understudy for her", Monsieur Firmin reasoned.

"Understudy?! There is no _understudy_ for La Carlotta!" the conductor said, taking a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiping his brow with it.

"Christine Daae could sing it, Monsieur", Madame Giry spoke up. Christine blushed and looked down. She could still remember when Madame Giry had caught her singing an aria her Angel had taught her.

"Really? A chorus girl? Nonsense", Monsieur Firmin shook his head.

"She has been well taught", Madame Giry persisted.

"Fine, let her sing. Who taught you?" Monsieur Andre asked, his eyebrows raised.

Madame Giry gently pushed Christine forward. She looked back at the motherly figure. How was she supposed to answer? Surely they wouldn't believe her if she said that her Angel had taught her. And she had not practiced in so long...

"I... I don't know his name, Monsieur", Christine said, her blush deepening.

"Alright then. From the beginning of the aria, please", the conductor instructed.

"Andre this is doing nothing for my nerves", Firmin quietly said to his business partner.

"Well she's very pretty", he said back .

"_Think of Me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while-please promise me you'll try_", Christine sang. She looked back at Madame Giry, who smiled at her and motioned for her to move up farther.

She did and continued to sing. "_When you find, that once again, you long to take your heart back and be free-if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me_".

Below her, her Angel was back in the catacombs and listened to her beautiful voice stream throughout the opera house. He had waited for this day, the day when his loving protégée would be known to everyone. She deserved it.

Andre and Firmin looked at each other as she hit her high note, impressed.

They waited until she was finished and applauded as loud as they possibly could for her. Christine rushed back to her spot next to Meg and Madame Giry. _I only did as he taught me_, she thought modestly.

The owners of the opera house decided to have Christine play the lead part in _Hannibal_, but also wanted her to sing that same song at the end of the performance.

The play went smoothly without any flaws, and at her last part Christine hurried to change into the beautiful white gown that she was to wear as she sang _Think of Me_.

That also went by without flaws, and after her final bow, Christine went to the chapel to light a candle for her father.

She leaned to light the candle, her white gown pooled out around her as she sat on the floor. _"Brava, Brava, Bravissma"_ came a soft voice. It was filled with love and sounded like her Angel. But she hadn't seen him for so long, she didn't even know if he was still there anymore.

"Christine? Christine! There you are", Meg said, walking over to sit by her dear friend. "Christine", the same voice echoed. From above, her Angel looked on lovingly at his protégée, watching her small figure surrounded by her white skirt. She looked beautiful.

"_Where in the world have you been hiding? Really you were perfect. I only wish I knew your secret, who is your great tutor?" _Meg sang.

"Meg. When your mother brought me here to live, whenever I'd come down here alone to light a candle for my father, a voice, from above. And in my dreams, he was always there. You see, when my father lay dying, he told me I would be protected by an angel. An Angel of Music", Christine confided in her friend.

"Christine-do you believe? Do you think the spirit of your father's coaching you?" Meg said, a worried look on her face.

"Who else Meg? Who?" Christine asked. She wanted Meg to believe her so badly, but now she wasn't even sure of it herself.

"_Father once spoke of an Angel. I used to dream he'd appear. Now as I sing I can sense him, and I know, he's here! Here in this room he calls me, softly. Somewhere inside, hiding. Somehow I know he's always with me, he the unseen_ genius", Christine said, her thoughts on her Angel pouring out in a song all at once.

"_Christine you must have been dreaming. Stories like this can't come true. Christine you're talking in riddles, and it's not like you", _Meg sang, looking at her friend worriedly.

"_Angel of Music, guide and guardian. Grant to me your glory",_ Christine sang, her voice echoing throughout.

"Who is this Angel, this..." Meg said, unfinished.

"_Angel of Music, hide no longer. Secret and strange, Angel",_ they sang in a duet, their voices harmonizing.

"He's with me even now", Christine said as Meg led her slowly out of the chapel.

"You're hands are cold", Meg whispered as she warmed her friend's hands in her own.

"All around me", Christine said, her eyes wide with fear.

"You're face, Christine, it's white". Meg was really worried now.

"It frightens me".

"Don't be frightened", Meg assured her friend.

Meg led Christine to the room where the prima donna was supposed to stay. Christine told her faithful friend that she didn't have to stay with her, but Meg went hesitantly. Madame Giry wanted all ballerinas to come for rehearsal, as tonight's performance was "awful".

Christine looked down at her table and gasped. There was a rose, tied with a black ribbon. It was her Angel. And he was still there, guiding her. He wasn't gone after all.


	7. Together At Last

**Wow, Chapter 7 already! And thank you for the amazing comments-they've promoted me to write faster. This also continues from the movie, but as you will see, there's going to be something quite different, or at least it was never mentioned in the movie... ;) These characters, lyrics, and ideas (Well, some of them) do not belong to me, but the genius Andrew Lloyd Webber.**

Christine looked at the rose she held in her hand. How could it be? After these years, her Angel had randomly appeared tonight. Could he have possibly played a part in getting her the lead role? But no, she only had seen the Phantom of the Opera make the scenery crash. Unless...

There was a knock at the door. Thinking it was Meg or Madame Giry, she called, "Come in".

To her surprise, Raoul walked in with a bouquet of flowers. "Raoul!" she smiled. From above, her Angel looked on in disgust.

"Little Lotte let her mind wander. Little Lotte said, 'Am I fonder of dolls or of goblins, or of shoes? Or of riddles or of frocks'", Raoul said, going back to memories of their childhood.

"Or those picnics in the attic", she replied, going along with it.

"Or of chocolates", Raoul said, admiring the little girl who had somehow grown into a woman along the way.

"Father playing the violin", Christine said, smiling.

"As we read to each other-dark stories of the north", he said back.

"No. 'Whatever best', Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed. And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head'", Christine sang.

"The Angel of Music sings songs in my head", they both sang, harmonizing.

Raoul hugged her. "You sang like an angel tonight".

"Father said, 'When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you. My father is dead, Raoul. And I have been visited by the Angel of Music", she told him. She thought about her Angel's beautiful voice filling her head...

Raoul raised an eyebrow, but, thinking that she was joking, smiled and went on. "Oh, no doubt of it. And now, we go to supper", he got up and headed toward the door.

"No, Raoul. The Angel of Music is very strict", she said. Christine had no idea where this idea was coming from. Her Angel hadn't visited her in years! What made her think this now? Did she not want to go with Raoul tonight...?

"Well I shan't keep you up late", he laughed, joking.

"No Raoul. No", Christine reasoned.

"You must change. I'll order my carriage. Two minutes, Little Lotte", he left and closed the door.

"No, Raoul, wait!" She stood up, but he was already gone. She didn't want to go with him.

What she didn't know was that her Angel had heard all of that, and had turned the key to her door to lock it. He put the key in his pocket so no one could get in.

Christine sighed and decided to ignore Raoul's invitation. She just didn't want to go, not yet anyway. She changed into her nightgown, and was tying the strings of her robe when the candles blew out. All of them, just like that.

Only her Angel could do this. But why? He was never _this_ mysterious. She looked up and, panicking, ran to the door.

She had just grabbed the handle when a very familiar voice came from overhead.

"_Insolent boy, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory. Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor. Sharing in my,_ _triumph!"_

Christine was shaking. Never before had she heard her Angel sing so angrily. He sounded so mad, and it was nothing like the soft, sweet lullaby's he sang to her as a child.

_"Angel I hear you, speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me. Angel my soul was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, master"_, she sang back. Her voice quaked with fear that he was mad at her also.

Fortunately his voice was now kinder and more gentle. _"Flattering child you shall know me. See why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside!"_ Sure enough, when Christine did as he asked, she could see the familiar face of her Angel appear in her mirror.

Christine, entranced, walked toward the mirror. She was cautious at first, but he was so enthralling that she no longer cared about how frightened she was. This was her Angel, and they were meant to be together.

Raoul was pounding at Christine's door, but she took no notice. "Christine? Who's in there? Whose is that voice? Christine? Christine!" he pounded more, but she didn't hear anything except for her Angel's voice.

"I am your Angel of Music. Come to me, Angel of Music!" he demanded her. Never before had he been so demanding, but Christine didn't mind. She needed her Angel. And he needed her.

As she neared the mirror, she stepped through it. Magically, she looked into the deep eyes of her Angel. He held out his hand to her.

She looked down as his hand, gloved in black leather. She hesitantly put her hand in his. Her pale hand in his mysterious one.

Christine put her hand gently into her Angel's. He had held her hand many times before, but this was completely different.

She looked into his eyes lovingly, but saw no emotion in his.

He led her down a hollow stone hall with candles on either side, brightening the whole hall up.

She finally found her voice. "You're both of them, aren't you? You're the Phantom of the Opera and my Angel of Music", she said, relaxing her tense hand in his gentle one.

"Yes, I am both", was all he said. He knew that she had probably had found out, but it had surprised him when her grip became more confident. He almost expected her to run away.

He led her behind him, as the hall was getting thinner. He kept looking back, as if to make sure she was alright with this. She was perfectly fine.

Christine began to sing. _"In sleep he sang to me. In dreams he came. That voice which calls to me. And speaks my name"_, she sang.

They reached the end of the hallway and were now going down stairs. He held a torch, and all Christine could manage to do was to watch him and sing. _"And do I dream again? For now I find- the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind"_, she continued to stare at his mysteriousness.

Christine dared to look at her surroundings, but his voice snapped her hand back to look at him once more. _"Sing once again with me. Our strange duet. My power over you, grows stronger yet"_. He helped to mount her onto a horse standing nearby.

She looked back. _"And thought you turn from me, to glance behind. The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind",_ he said, leading the horse and still glancing back at her. Her heart filled with love for this person she had known for so long, but barely knew at all.

He helped her get off the horse, taking her waist in his hands and making Christine's heart beat a little faster. He helped into a gondola and she sat down as he rowed.

_"Those who have seen your face. Draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear"_, she sang.

_"It's me they hear",_ he sang in reply.

They continued singing until they reached the familiar place: his home.

He got off of the boat and took his cape off. "Angel, but do you have a name? A proper name I can call you besides Angel", she asked him as she took his hand to get out as well.

"I had no trouble with being called Angel, but that was when you were a child. Call me... Erik", he told her.

"Erik", Christine repeated. It felt so right on her tongue, and better than Raoul's name. This name seemed to bring them closer together, more intimate.

_"Nighttime sharpens. Heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses",_ he sang in his beautiful voice.

This song almost brought tears to Christine's eyes, for she remembered when he sang this to her when she was a little girl. Now this song was for her, about how much he loved her. It wasn't in the lyrics, but it was in his voice.

He continued singing, telling her about the music of the night. At one part of the song, he took a hold of her from behind, running his hands up and down her stomach and dangerously close to her inner thigh. Christine had never been touched like this, and it surprised her of how good it felt to have her Angel of Music touch her like this.

_"Floating, falling. Sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me. Savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in..." _he sang as he performed this intimate move.

Christine closed her eyes and allowed herself to be touched by this wonderful Angel, Phantom, whoever it was.

He showed her to a room. She smiled at him, and he pulled the curtain back, showing her what lay in store for me inside. Christine looked into the same exact face as her own. But it what was the mannequin was wearing that made her faint.

The exact replica was wearing a wedding dress and wedding veil. Her Angel of Music wanted to marry her. The Phantom of the Opera wanted to marry her. She fell into his arms, confused, scared, and worried.

He picked her up and laid her onto his bed. He still sang to her, stroking her face and curls. He left her so she could rest and went back to composing his music.

A few hours later, Christine woke up. She had dreamed that her Angel had proposed to her... It was almost true. She got up and walked over to where he sat at the piano.

_"I remember there was mist. Swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake. There were candles all around and in the lake there was a boat. And in the boat there was a man", _she walked over to her Angel, such a man of mystery.

_"Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is that face in the mask?" _Christine walked over to her wonderful Angel and began to caress his face. She remembered now. She remembered how good it had felt to have him touch her, and she wanted more.

Her fingers hooked onto his mask, wanting to see who really was underneath it. He pushed her hand away before she could take it off.

"Christine no. Please, don't. I don't want you to see it", he pleaded her, waling away from her.

"Why, Erik?" she asked him. she hated to see him so scared and hurt like this. It made her regret even trying to take it off.

"Just, no Christine. Not now, at least. Please", he begged her.

"I'm sorry", she said. Christine walked over to her Angel, who instinctively put his hand over his mask. "I promise you that I won't", she whispered to him.

She closed her eyes and kissed him full on the lips. His eyes shot open in surprise, not thinking that she would do anything like this.

He kissed her back with such passion, Christine needed to have more of him.

Christine undid his shirt buttons and pulled it off. He looked at her. "Christine, you don't know... how long... I've wanted you like this", he said taking her in his arms and kissing her again.

She broke away. "Then take me", she whispered. She was certain that she wanted to become one with him. He put his hand into hers and led her to the bed she had just come from.

"Please, Angel. I'm ready", she asked him.


	8. Not Yet

**This is gonna get dirty... If you have ANY suggestions on making this less or more graphic to fit what the Phantom would really do, please leave a comment, and I MIGHT change it. Thank you for the wonderful comments, once again! :)By the way, this chapter brings out the goody-two-shoes in Christine-no, seriously. Read on.**

Christine watched her Angel, awestruck as he undid her corset. This couldn't be happening. she hadn't realized it, but as she grew older, she began to crave him indifferent ways. She wanted that craving to be satisfied.

She heard her corset clunk to the floor, and in one swift movement, everything except her slip was torn off of her. He kissed above her breasts where the pale skin had been exposed. He worked her straps off and then slipped her slip off. She instinctively covered her breasts, but he gently pulled her hands away, pinning them above her head and exposing her breasts to him. They weren't large, but they were something he had yearned to see for a while now.

"Don't worry, Christine. I love you", he assured her, and her breathing relaxed. She felt his lower body brush against her, and felt his erection.

Controlling himself, he played with her first. He kissed her nipples and caressed them as well. Christine had never been touched this way and her back arched. Her nipples peaked and he brushed his hand over them. "Erik..." she whispered.

He glanced at her and put his fingers inside of her, one of them. She gasped and her body involuntarily pushed them deeper in, making her squeal in pain.

He took his fingers out and plunged them back in again, this time making Christine close her eyes in pleasure. To her disappointment, he took his finger out again.

He ran the soaking finger over her breasts, leaving a trail of shining liquid. This time he kissed her womanhood, sending shivers up and down her spine. Then he started to nip her folds, making her squeal once more.

"Erik..." she said again.

He cupped his hand once more over her damp sex. He stared at her mound for a few seconds, staring at his Angel's most delicate and precious spot to him. After years of watching her from a distance, he needed to see her, to feel her, now.

As he discarded his trousers, Christine had a chance to slip back into reality. He was her Angel, a supposed fatherly figure in her life. Could she really succumb her body to him?

Christine was running these doubts throughout her mind as Erik got into a better position on top of her. _I love him so much, I know that now. But I only recently realized this... do I really want to show my love to him like this? Now? We aren't anywhere near getting married... _Christine thought. She started to cry under all the stress, and came to a conclusion: she wasn't ready to give her body to Erik like this.

She felt horrible for doing it, but she had to stop him. "Erik, wait", she said. He had just lowered himself down to her waiting for the pleasure to overcome him.

But she had stopped it. Why? Oh God, did she not love him? What was he thinking? She was seventeen, for God's sake! He knew he had made a huge mistake. But wait, she began to speak. God, she was crying! "Erik. I'm sorry. I... I'm not...ready. But I do love you. Please listen to me when I say that. I love you with all my heart, I'm just not..." Christine trailed off hoping he would understand.

Christine flinched when she saw anger flash in his eyes, but then he pulled his trousers back on. "Christine", was all he said, leaving her to interpret the meaning.

Not even bothering with her corset, she pulled on her nightgown quicker than she had ever before. She couldn't stand him seeing her like this. She waiting for him to say something, anything to give her something to understand.

"Christine", he said again, "I'm sorry. I rushed you, and you weren't ready. Christine forgive me, please forgive me. I didn't know that you weren't ready". He looked like he was about to rush to hug her, but then remembered what they were talking about in the first place.

Now she was really crying. Hard. "Erik. I love you so much. Please understand that. And please don't get mad at me. I don't think I could take that. But... I wasn't ready. My body... got ahead of itself", she admitted, turning her head to avoid his gaze. She could feel her cheeks heat up.

"No, Christine. I'm not mad. I was just so eager..." he trailed off, surprising her. Her Angel was rarely at a loss for words.

He turned and took her hand. He was standing up and she was still sitting on the bed, whose bed sheets were tangled.

"Come. We must return. Those two fools in my theater will be missing you", he said. And, just like that, he became the Phantom of the Opera again.

On the way to Christine's room, she fell asleep from all the exhaustion. He had to carry her to her room. Already for him, it was awkward touching her after what they had just discussed.

But, despite said discussion, he gently kissed her lips when he lay her into her bed. _"You alone, can make my song take flight. Help me make the Music of the Night"_, he quietly sang to her. He left the note he had written when she had been asleep at his lair on her table, addressed to Meg and Madame Giry.

He had quite the respect for the older woman, so that led him to explain why she was missing. Not in detail, of course. It went somewhere along the lines of this:

_"Dear Madame Giry and Daughter Meg,_

_ I know that you must be concerned with the absence of Christine Daae, but do not worry; she was in good hands. Please attend to her as needed. Remind the owners that if they want their precious opera house performance of Il Muto, then she is to play the main role, and Carlotta shall play the page boy-the silent role. If my demands are not obeyed, be prepared for a disaster beyond your imagination. I ask you to not meddle in what happened with Miss Christine Daae-again, if you do, be prepared for a disaster beyond your imagination. Thank you,_

_ *The Phantom of the Opera*"_

Christine slept quite well as Madame Giry and Meg read over this mysterious note. "But who is he? Why Christine, and why this opera house?" Meg asked her mother.

Madame Giry looked away. "I advise you to do as he says, Meg. Don't stick your nose into his business. Christine will tell you if she wants to, but perhaps she was instructed not to as well. Please, Meg. Not now", Madame Giry said, trying not to reveal as much as she could. She closed her eyes and saw flashbacks of then...

_They were whipping him! Oh, Lord they were whipping him and he hadn't even done anything. How could they? And everyone was laughing, even her best friends and the rest of the ballerinas. Didn't they realize how cruel they were being to him? Just because he had a damaged side of his face, they didn't have to treat him like... garbage!_

Madame Giry opened her eyes, trying to manage herself once again after that flashback. But all it had done was remind her of what this man had gone through.

They heard Christine stir, and Meg rushed over to see how her friend was doing. Christine's eyes were suddenly wide open. "He was there, and not only in my mind or dreams. I saw him, I touched him. I heard his music, and soon through his music my soul began to soar. And I'd heard as I'd never heard before. There was sadness in his eyes, though", Christine blurted, looking from Meg to Madame Giry.

Madame Giry knew exactly what she was talking about, as she also knew him well and had been observing their relationship since the very beginning. It didn't worry her at first-he needed to be loved-but it was getting worse now. But she couldn't seem to stop him...

"Mother, what's she talking about? Are you alright Christine?" Meg cried, confused with the whole thing.

"I'm fine Meg, I'm just tired and I need rest", Christine assured her worried friend.

"Meg, she's alright. I know she is. Now, come with me to tell the managers of Christine's arrival. They must be worried", Madame Giry said, changing the subject and leading Meg through the door.

"Alright, Mother. Get some rest Christine, and get well", Meg said, still confused if Christine was either sick or just hallucinating.

Poor Meg had no idea what either her mother or her nest friend was saying. All this nonsense about the opera ghost was confusing her even more than she already was. She had never seen him herself, so it was hard for her to believe that he even existed in the first place.

The mother and daughter walked over to the foyer, where Raoul, Carlotta, the owners, and few others were arguing about something. Madame Giry could see envelopes in their hands-the opera ghost must have sent them similar notes to what he sent to her.

Personally, Madame Giry wished that Raoul would just forget about Christine and find someone else, but she could see in his eyes that he really loved her. She knew that the Phantom loved her even more than the boy, and he had a different way of settling things like that. Madame Giry just didn't want Raoul to get killed.

"Christine is back, Monsieur", she interrupted.

"Let me see her", Raoul demanded, concerned about his love's health.

Madame Giry held her hand up to stop him. "She will see no one, Monsieur", she said as an excuse.

"She needed rest", Meg spoke up in her sweet, clear voice.

Raoul shook his head in annoyance and left.

Madame Giry then approached the managers. "He has a request".


	9. Without a Thought

**I actually have a question. In the movie, was the day Erik took Christine back after the Music of the Night thing the same day they performed Il Muto and sang All I Ask of You on the rooftop? Please leave your answer as a comment; it's confusing to me! Cause that's important for this chapter. I think it was, so that's how this chapter is gonna go. Thank you so much to PhantomFan01, Dkk5, and Alana Fox for the amazing, supportive comments. So anyway, here it is :)**

"And what is this request?" Andre and Firmin looked at each other, already knowing what it was.

"That tonight Miss Christine Daae is to play the main role and that Carlotta is to play the silent role of the page boy", Madame Giry said, hoping that they would obey his commands. Unfortunately, her pleas were not answered in the right way.

"Preposterous! Only now has Miss Daae returned, and Carlotta has already been preparing for the part for months now! Everyone expects Carlotta, and Carlotta they shall get! Miss Daae will play the part of the page boy- the 'silent role' everyone keeps talking about", Andre told Madame Giry.

Madame Giry shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just be prepared for this 'disaster beyond your imagination' the opera ghost keeps talking about. I have seen him threaten before, and let me tell you, his threats are not empty", she told them, still hoping to change their minds.

"God, you're all obsessed. And come to think of it, if there _is_ really a opera ghost, which I'm not saying I believe, why do you seem to be the one that knows so much about him, hm?" Firmin asked her.

It was a good question, but Madame Giry had to lie to answer it. "I've been here for a very long time, Monsieur. I know a lot about the opera ghost that has been plaguing my opera house since who-knows-when. How dare you accuse me of masquerading as him!" she said.

"I'm sorry Madame. We have to leave now to get everyone ready for the performance tonight". Andre and Firmin rushed off.

Meanwhile, Christine was still in bed, thinking when she had a visitor. "Erik? Is that you?" she asked when someone knocked on the door.

The door opened, and in walked Raoul. Of course. Erik would never just simply enter her room through a door. he could get caught.

She sighed heavily without realizing it. "Who's Erik? And why did you sigh when I walked in; do you not want to see me?" Raoul asked, his brow creased.

"No, Raoul. I'm mostly just tired. I thought you were someone else", she said.

"Oh. Well. I'm inviting you to come to my house tonight after your performance-no matter what part you get in that play. It doesn't matter to me. Just that you're going to do great no matter what", he said, and leaned forward to kiss her lips.

Christine let herself be kissed by him. "Thank you for inviting me, Raoul. Yes, I'll come", she promised him.

"Thank you Christine. I'll be waiting for you after the performance", he said, and then walked out.

Meg and Madame Giry came back holding the costume for the pageboy in their hands.

Christine was dressed as her part as the pageboy and soon the performance had begun.

Erik was hiding behind the curtains, and as soon as the performance began, he quickly swapped Carlotta's throat spray for one of his own concoctions.

From above, Joseph Bouqet saw this transaction, and vowed to capture whoever had done it.

Another curtain opened to show Christine, "kissing" Carlotta as part of her act.

The play went on as normal, but what was going on behind stage was a totally different story. Joseph Bouqet was trying to find whoever had kept causing all this damage to the opera house. And if he did, he would be named a hero.

He saw a flash of black fabric out the corner of his eye and quickly turned around, and then ran to find this strange man.

As her part in the performance, Christine tore her skirt off, and Erik could feel a growl arising from his throat. Christine didn't deserve this part! She was a respected woman, and shouldn't be doing anything like that-even if it was for the opera house! And then he looked over at Box Five-_his_ Box Five-and saw the idiot Raoul sitting there, chuckling at Christine's performance.

Erik made his way through a secret door of the domed roof, knowing his voice would project well with the shape of the roof.

"Did I not instruct, that Box Five was to be kept empty?" he said, his voice booming throughout and scaring the audience and the cast and crew.

"He's here; the Phantom of the Opera", Meg whispered to Christine.

Christine looked up in shock, wondering where her Angel was. "It's him", she said faintly.

"Your part is silent, little toad", Carlotta scolded Christine. She laughed at the audience and went to spray her throat.

"A toad, Madame? Perhaps it is you, who are the toad", Erik whispered, and then took off, his cape billowing out just enough to let Christine see where he was.

Joseph Bouqet also saw this action, and began to chase the perpetrator around, hoping to finally catch him.

They chased each other around, precariously balanced on the wires that held the stage together. Until finally, Erik got a hold of Joseph-with a rope.

Carlotta had begun to sing, but was soon stopped when she began to croak instead of sing.

Erik strangled him, and then just let him go lose, making him drop to the stage, still convulsing.

Everyone screamed, even Christine, as he could recognize that voice anywhere.

Christine, wide-eyed, ran away, she didn't know where to. She just ran and ran. This was her Angel. And he had just murdered someone. She choked on her sobs, still running as far as she could until she finally collapsed on the stone floor, sure that she was far away from anyone and anything.

Her breathing slowly slowed down so she could actually think about what she had just seen.

Her Angel had just murdered a man. An innocent man. This made her burst into another round of tears, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there was a figure standing over her. Erik.

As soon as her brain processed this information, she stood up and backed away, trembling so hard that she fell down again. He rushed to her and reached to help her up, but she drew her hand away before he could touch it.

"Who _are_ you?" she asked him, horrified.

"Why do you ask?" he inquired, and reached for her again, and this time he was too quick and got a hold of her waist.

Christine was so frightened she couldn't move. If he hasn't hesitated to kill Joseph Bouqet, than why wouldn't he do the same to her?

She gulped as her ran his hand up and down her body.

"Why are you so different all of a sudden?" she managed to croak out.

"Why did you let that boy kiss you, after what we did together?" he answered with a question.

Her eyes widened. Raoul! He would be so worried, and she had promised him.

Erik took a cloth out of his breast pocket and held it up to her nose.

Christine was just about to run away when she was forced to sniff something horribly sweet. And everything was black.


	10. Betrayal

**Hey, I won't be able to upload two chapters or whatever I usually do everyday, so sorry about that. School is starting for the week again, and of course I spent time writing this story instead of doing homework. So, like the procrastinator I am, I left all me homework to the last day before school started. So sorry, BUT I'M STILL CONTINUING THIS STORY, so check back for new chapters. :) Thanks! And none of the lyrics or characters are mine *sigh*.**

Christine woke up a few hours later. She almost fainted again when she realized where she was. She was on his swan bed, and he was seated just feet away, writing something.

She silently got up, but his well tuned ears still heard her, and he turned around to face her.

"Angel-why?" she asked him innocently. She came up to cradle his face. He thought he was forgiven, and pressed into her grip even more.

Relaxed and vulnerable, she took this as an opportunity. She peeled his mask away from his face, and stood, horrified by what she saw. She stumbled back, not only out of surprise, but because he knocked her over.

"Damn you, Christine!", he screamed at her, covering his face with his hand.

"Didn't I ask you to not do that? I specifically did! And this is how you repay your Angel?" he demanded.

"Do you get pleasure out of killing, though?" she got up to courage to ask him.

"Go, Christine! _Go now, go now and leave me!_" he screamed at her. "Go back to your precious Vicomte. You'll live a happy life with him! Go away, Christine!" he yelled some more.

Christine, who was still in her pageboy costume, ran out, rowing the boat as fast as she could. She just wanted to get away from this monster-this creature. He was not her Angel of Music. Her Angel probably w_as_ just a dream.

As soon as she reached stable ground, Christine ran blindly to her room, crying the whole way. She collapsed on her bed with a moan.

Someone knocked on the door. She tensed up. Was it Erik? "Who is it?" she timidly asked.

"It's Raoul. Oh, Christine! I was so worried about you", he said, rushing in and hugging her.

"Oh, Raoul. I need to tell you so much. I need to get dressed first. Wait for me outside my door-I'll be as quick as I can", she said to Raoul. Christine made up her mind to tell him about Erik. But not all of it, of course.

She dressed into a pink skirt and just threw on a thin blouse over her corset. She grabbed a red cape off a hook and tied it on.

Taking Raoul's hand, she led him to the rooftop. "Why have you brought me here?" he asked her, confused.

"Can't go back there", Christine said, shutting her eyes at the memory of him, his face, and when he murdered.

"We must return", Raoul insisted.

"He'll kill you._ His eyes will find us there"_, Christine sang as she led Raoul to the rooftop.

"Christine don't say that".

_"Those eyes that burn"._

"Don't even think it", Raoul continued.

_"If he has to kill a thousand men"._

"Forget this waking nightmare".

_"The Phantom of the Opera will kill and kill again",_ Christine sang, glancing back at Raoul who was trying to keep up with her.

"This phantom is a fable, believe me. _There is, no Phantom of the Opera"_, he kept insisting.

"_My God who is this man",_ they sang together.

"_Who hunts to kill",_ Christine shook her head.

"_This mask of death", _Raoul added.

"_I can't escape from him'._

_"Whose is this voice you hear?"_

_"I never will"._

_"And in this labyrinth. Where night is blind. The Phantom of the Opera is here, inside my mind",_ they sang, and finally reached the rooftop.

"_There is no Phantom of the Opera", _Raoul said.

"_Raoul, I've been there. To his world of unending night. To a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness...darkness", _Christine closed her eyes, but all she could see was her Angel's face.

_"Raoul, I've seen him. Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face so distorted, deformed, it was hardly a face in that darkness... darkness"_, she continued to sing.

But then she remembered his voice, and his hands wrapped around hers, and how well their bodies fit into each other. _"But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound. In that night there was music in my mind. And through music my soul began... to sooaaar!" _Christine sang.

Erik, who was listening and watching from behind a nearby statue closed his eyes as he listened to her last beautiful note. Her voice was so wonderful...

But she continued. _"Yet in those eyes; all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore", _Christine sang. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep away the cold.

"Christine", Raoul walked over to her and put his arms around her waist. She sank into him, thankful for his comforting, strong grip. "I can take you away from this monster. I can help you escape from his grasp. Please, just let me try. I love you, Christine, and wherever you go , I want to go to. That's all I ask of you. Please, Little Lotte", he told her.

_Ha! She would never say yes to him! Didn't she hear how much he sounded like a child? Besides, she belongs to me,_ Erik thought, painfully watching their embrace.

She smiled at him. "That would be nice, Raoul. I love you too", she said, and nuzzled her nose with his.

His heart shattered. His mind went blank. Those four last words caught him. He closed his eyes in anguish and hurt.

"Then Christine, come into my life with me. Will you marry me?" he asked her, holding out a ring.

Christine smiled and hugged him, which was answer enough. He held her and spun her around, her cape billowing in the breeze. She looked so beautiful... but she was in the hands of Raoul.

"It's late, Little Lotte. About midnight. But will you still come with me, for a late supper, to celebrate?" he asked her, pecking her on her lips. She did the same and answered him.

"Of course Raoul. _Anywhere, you go let me go too. That's all I ask of you",_ she sang gently to him. They left the rooftop.

She had once sang like that to him. But that seemed like so long ago...

Erik looked at the ground. There was one of the roses he had given Christine. It must have dropped out of her cape. And he had dropped out of her life.

He clutched the rose, trembling. "_I gave you my music. And made your song take wing. And now, how you repay me. You hide me and you hate me", _he sang into the rose.

He crushed it between his fingers, petals falling off one by one.

Anguished, he ran to the edge of the statue, looking at the city from the top of the opera house. "_You will curse the day you did not do-All that The Phantom asked of YOU!" _he bellowed, partly hoping she would hear. But she didn't.

Instead, he saw them walk out of the front door of the opera house, hand in hand, and smiling, just like an engaged couple would.


	11. To the Rescue

**This is another dirty chapter- warning. :/ And some of you might have read my other story- Carlotta Will Be Playing the Lead. But I deleted that, and am using some of those ideas for this. :/ Hope you like! :)**

Raoul returned Christine to the opera house early the next morning. It had been a little more awkward than Christine had imagined, as she knew what had been on Raoul's mind almost the entire time.

Five times he had tried to make love to her, and five times she told him not to. Fortunately after she told him this five times, he didn't seem hurt-but he did keep trying.

One time in the middle of the time the spent together, Christine found herself flashing back to Erik. When she and him had almost become one, he was so gentlemanly about it. When she told him no, he had faithfully stopped and that was that, despite the longing she could see in his eyes.

Because it was now a Sunday, things at the opera house would be quiet and no rehearsals or anything would be going on. Christine was thankful when she eased herself into her bed. She could sleep for as long as she wanted to today.

But it was terribly hard. Her mind kept slipping from Raoul (she was engaged to him now!) and Erik (had he really meant it when he had told her to never come back to him?).

Of course, Erik was watching Christine try to get to sleep. He wanted so badly to go and comfort her, to sing her to sleep like when they had first met. But he couldn't. She would be too afraid, and he had already put her through enough, and didn't need to disturb her now. But he did just sit there and watch her, her curls spilling over the pillow and the sunrise reflecting her radiantly pale face.

After half an hour of thinking, Christine finally managed to get to sleep. He still watched her from a distance. That's all he thought he would be doing for the rest of his life-watching from a distance.

* * *

A few hours later, Christine woke up, refreshed and happy. She was going to marry Raoul soon, and she just couldn't get it out of her mind. She walked to the washroom, deciding that she needed a bath.

On her way there, she met Carlotta. "Well, if it isn't my little toad, Christine Daae. I bet you laughed so hard at the performance yesterday. I bet it was your idea, too", she sneered into the young girl's face.

"I... I swear I didn't, Mademoiselle. Please, believe me", she pleaded.

"I forgive you, toad", she said. "But you will have to pay", Carlotta said, thrusting her fist up Christine's nightgown. Christine stepped back in surprise.

Carlotta tightly gripped her shoulder and led her down the hall to her dressing room. "There we are little toad. No one will disturb us in here. Now, take it off", she ordered Christine.

At first Christine didn't quite understand. She just stood there, in her nightgown that tucked in right below her bosom. It was the most girlish nightgown she owned.

"I said, take it off! Or would you rather have me rip it off? It would be a shame-it looks so beautiful on you..." Carlotta traced Christine's collarbone with spindly fingers, making Christine shiver.

Christine had no choice but to take it off. She slowly peeled the pretty cloth away from her pale body. Soon she stood naked in front of Carlotta, crossing her arms over her breasts.

"Do not hide yourself from me, pig!" she commanded, she pushed Christine onto the couch and yanked her hands away from her dress.

She began to lick Christine's breasts in rhythmic movements, and Christine almost began to hyperventilate. When Christine's nipples were peaked, she pushed her finger around them, feeling the pebbled flesh. Christine looked up, trying to avoid seeing what Carlotta was doing to her, but she could still feel her breasts rising heavily up and down in fright.

Christine was not especially busty or plump in that area; as a matter of fact she had always been quite small. But unfortunately Carlotta took pleasure all the same.

Carlotta's knee found it's way between Christine's legs as she continued with her breasts. It soon hit The Spot, and Christine screamed.

"Shut up!" Carlotta said, stuffing a nearby scarf into the young girl's mouth. To Christine's horror, she pulled off her own skirt and blouse so that she was naked-she had been wearing no undergarments.

She pressed her sex into Christine's, rubbing wet with wet. Inside her head, Christine was screaming, but on the outside, she moaned in pleasure, her body automatically attempting to push Carlotta closer to her.

Carlotta pushed her fingers into Christine, making her scream in pain, very audible even through the gag.

Erik was moping around the opera house, mourning his loss of Christine. He passed by the mirror by which he had taken her into his lair-that pleasant night, with all the guilty pleasures. She had moved out of that room now that Carlotta was back to being prima donna.

But he heard a loud scream-he knew it was Christine's-and peered into the mirror. Then his finely tuned ears picked up a grunting sound.

He looked in to see a naked Christine, her mouth wide with horror as Carlotta pushed her fingers inside of her, creating a pool of blood on the couch-she was making Christine bleed!

Erik smashed through the mirror in anger.

He had his Punjab lasso- he always carried it with him now. He slipped it around Carlotta's neck; he wasn't going to kill her-just scare everything out of her.

"Erik!" Christine said, pulling her nightgown back on quickly. He grabbed Christine and took her out of Carlotta's room.

Christine hugged Erik, but he was stiff and didn't hug her back. He actually pushed her back.

"Don't forget about you engagement. Your little vicomte wouldn't want to see you with me", he said, and then ran off.

Christine went to take a bath as planned, but tears were streaming down her eyes. It was her own fault- Raoul had taken advantage of Christine's unstable emotions and had proposed. She had thought it was the perfect thing. At the time.

He might have saved her, but she still remembered how he murdered. She couldn't marry a murderer. She just couldn't bring herself to do it.

Maybe it was for the best that they were separated now.


	12. Pity Comes Too Late

**I am sooooo sorry for not getting to this sooner. I was being all busy with homework; especially memorizing Julius Caesar (which actually is a good book, when you are able to understand it). So here, and I am super sorry for not helping to fulfill your Phantom fix.**

Christine got out of the bath and dried herself off. When her hair was wet, her already long curls stretched out and became even more longer, as Erik admired from a distance. Her hair stretched past her bottom. He felt bad for watching her like this without her knowing, but he knew that this was probably the only way he would be able to get his fill of Christine.

He seemed to be watching her a lot lately-he knew he was still in love with her, but was she in love with him? Probably not.

He had to tear himself away from her, knowing that he had some other business to attend to.

She got dressed into a simple black dress and pulled her black cloak around her. She looked at the snow outside and wrapped a red light shawl around her head as well. It was about time to visit her father.

It was already afternoon, and Christine passed Meg on her way outside. "Christine! There you are! You ran off without even finishing the performance-but that's alright, we didn't finish it anyway. Everyone was too scared and almost all of them left", she sighed. "He's ruining everything, the opera ghost. We doubt we'll get another full house in a while", Meg stared at the floor.

_Yes, he _was_ ruining everything, _Christine thought. She felt sorry for her dear friend. Meg had lived at the opera house, and she would be devastated if it had to close, especially due to Erik...

"I agree. I'm going to visit my father now", Christine said, interrupting her own thoughts.

"All right, Christine. I'll see you later, then", Meg waved goodbye to Christine and left.

Christine walked outside. "To my father's grave, please", she told the unusually quiet carriage driver. He still didn't speak a word and just nodded his head in reply.

She sat back comfortably in the carriage and watched the snowflakes fall peacefully from the sky, their light touch the complete opposite of what she felt inside. Inside she felt heavy, ashamed, and forlorn. The way Erik had looked at her... no emotion whatsoever.

His cold eyes had pierced her frightened and intimidated ones. They had quickly averted the gaze and had left, leaving her lonely and wondering what he thought of her. He had just saved her from getting raped, and yet still no emotion had shown through. She wondered what he thought of her, and wondered what he had thought seeing her like that: vulnerable, naked, and in the grasp of someone else, that someone not being him.

She started humming Angel of Music, hoping that it would calm her nerves. In front of her, the figure straightened, as if surprised.

Christine felt a blush sweeping across her face and stopped immediately. She had forgotten that she wasn't the only one. She let out a quivering sigh. It included all of the frustration about Erik and Raoul, and the way things turned out. That was the worst thing to think about for her: the way things turned out.

Did she love Raoul? it was a skeptical thought, and she wasn't exactly sure about the answer to that. but Erik-_her _Erik-had saved her today. When she had seen him without his mask on-it had been an impulse, and nothing more. Especially after he had just murdered an innocent man, she had been terribly frightened even at the thought of him. And to think that she had almost become one with him...Now she just had to find out what had happened to him, why he was here, and everything she possibly could about him. She knew he would never tell her himself, for he was to secretive, but she knew exactly who _would_ tell her.

Christine gave the carriage man her money, and yet he still hid his face from her. Not thinking anything of it at the time, Christine brushed of any suspicious feelings she may have. Lots of people had reasons to hide their faces. Like Erik...

Christine pushed his idea and presence out of her mind. She had come here for only one reason: to pay her respects to her father.

She neared his grave when, suddenly, a glowing orange tinted light appeared from where her father's grave was. At first was surprised, but then the voice started singing, and immediately, she knew who it was. He had followed her here, somehow. But he was here, and she didn't know whether his intentions were friendly or not. Either way, though, Christine turned to run away.

"No, Christine! Please. Don't leave", she heard him say. Ignoring him, she hiked up her skirts and began to run blindly through the snow. She didn't know or care where she went, as long as it was far away from him.

Out of no where, he soon caught up to her and took ahold of her arms. She could see his breath in the cold, winter air.

"What is it now? Why can't you just leave me? Leave me alone!" she panted, and tried to throw his arms off of her.

His grip was too strong, and instead of throwing his arms off, she threw herself to the ground in the snow. He stood over her as she crouched on the floor, scared about what he was about to do to her next.

"Christine, I can't leave you. it would be impossible, because I love you. Leaving you would be as hard as leaving my music, and I can't possibly do that. Please, just let me speak to you as you listen", he begged her, sorrow filling his eyes.

Christine's chest heaved with heavy breaths as she considered his proposition. It sounded reasonable, but right now she wasn't exactly in a reasonable mood. "Why? Why do you need to see me? Why do you torture me like this so?" she asked him.

"Why do you torture _me_ like this Christine? Oh please, just listen to me, just this once", he asked her.

"I listened to you before and it turned out that you were lying to me", she pointed out. "And you should know, I'm engaged to marry Raoul. So please..." she trailed off.

"Christine, that was the only way I could speak to you without frightening you", he reasoned.

"You're speaking to me know and I'm very frightened", she quietly told him.

"But why? Is it because of this?!" he said angrily, pointing to his face.

"No. That's certainly not it. It was when I first saw it, but I have realized now. The real man that scares me is the one that murders and kills without a thought. You murder all that's good. I know I can't refuse to talk to you, and yet I wish I could. Oh God if I agree what horrors wait for me, with you?" she said cruelly.

"Alright, Christine. If you are that terribly frightened to even speak to me, to even look at me-as you have been avoiding my gaze the entire time-I shall leave you, if that's what you want", he said angrily. And with a flourish of his cape, he left her, riding away on a white horse.

Christine half lay on the ground, too numb with fear and sadness that she didn't even want to bother to get up. She realized how cruel she had been. He had certainly murdered, but hadn't he also saved her today from Carlotta? Hadn't he given her the passion of an Angel to sooth her as a little girl? This was how she repaid him?

"Erik, please! Please forgive me, and please come back, I beg of you! Erik..." she whispered his name one last time, but yelled out her apology, hoping he would hear.

But no one heard except the graves around her, and no strong arms came around her to protect her and love her. She was alone, without Erik.


	13. Second Thoughts

**Warning- Pretty Graphic. Which might POSSIBLY be good news. Maybe. ;)**

Christine arrived at the opera house, her face streaked with tears. She had been crying ever since he had left her, and she couldn't even bare to think of what she had said to him. Walking in all the secret shortcuts to avoid everybody, Christine soon arrived at her room. And, Raoul was waiting there for her, a hopeful look on his face.

"Hello Raoul", she sighed. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. The first was Erik.

"Little Lotte, why are you so... down?" he asked her, taking ahold of her chin and bringing it up to meet his eyes. His bright blue eyes usually made Christine feel giddy inside, as it would to any other girl, but today it just made her want to look away even more. She craved to see green eyes. Deep, mysterious, green eyes that would, if she were to see them now, would look at her with such hatred, such dislike, and not the usual kindness they bared.

"Oh, I'm just tired", she said. She opened the door, hoping that Raoul would take the hint, but he just stood there, looking at her expectantly.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Angel?" he said. He may not have even realized that he had called her that, but this angered Christine.

"Don't call me that, Raoul. Please don't. I can't have _you_ call me that..." she said. Of course he would also question this, which is what he did, but she didn't care. She sighed again. "You may come in", she told him dejectedly.

"No, Christine, I'm alright. But why don't you want me to call you that? Why not me? I _am_ going to be your husband..." he said, as if she had forgotten.

But she had. Christine closed her eyes. How could she marry this man when Erik still lingered in her mind? She didn't think she could go through with it, not after what had just happened.

"If that's what you think of the prospect..." Raoul said, noticing her annoyance.

"No, Raoul. Really", she lied.

"No, Christine. Maybe I was a little too-rushed when I proposed to you. Christine, I came to give you your ring. Your engagement ring; I had forgotten to give it to you yesterday. I was going to give it to you Christine, but that way you reacted just then... forget about it. Forget I asked you. If you still want to court me, please tell me, as soon as you can", he told her sadly, implying that she should tell him now.

Christine stood there, silent as a reply. He sighed. "Alright, Christine. Goodbye", he said and walked away.

A good amount of Christine wanted to yell at him and say that it was alright, and that she would marry him after all. But the rest kept Erik in mind, sweet Erik who seemed to care so much about her.

She closed the door and leaned against it, exhausted, tired, sad, and angry. At whom she wasn't sure. It was just a mixed media of feelings. She peeled off her cape and lay down on her bed, thoughts whirling rapidly throughout her mind.

She had to visit him. She just had to, and she knew nothing could stop her from seeing him. Christine walked through the mirror, using the same button Erik had used when he first came to her in the mirror as her Angel.

When she came to the mirror, Christine couldn't find the boat anywhere. Yet, nothing could stop her, and she swam across. When she and her father had lived by the sea, he had taught her how to swim, and now Christine was quite thankful for those lessons.

She came out dripping wet, but didn't seem to care, and besides, she certainly wouldn't take her clothes off.

Erik would usually be at his piano at this time, but instead he was standing up. He held something on his arm, and Christine could see dark red seeping through the seemingly thin cloth.

Christine panicked and ran to him. He looked up, surprised, and then angry. "Christine! What are you doing here?!" he asked her, trying to hide the wound.

She walked up to him and gently pushed his arm into her view. "Erik, what did you do?" she asked him, taking ahold of the cloth and pressing down on an area of the cloth not yet penetrated by the warm fluid.

"You must answer my question first. And why would you come here, after rejecting me as you did earlier?" he sighed. "I don't understand you, Christine. And if that boy caught you here, he would surely kill me, and would be quite angry at yourself..."

Christine put her finger to his lips, silencing him. He closed his eyes, enthralled by her light touch. Too soon did she draw her fingers away. "He wouldn't care anymore, really. It's over between the two of us. At least, I hope. So please, no that I've answered your question, please answer mine and lets get this wound on it's way to healing", Christine said as if nothing had happened.

He blinked, hardly believing her words. Was this really Christine speaking to him in her lulling voice? Surely not the same Christine that had been so terrified and hateful of him earlier. "Alright. But your going to think of me as a fool", he warned her as she led him to a nearby chair, holding the cloth on his wound.

"I had a knife, and I wanted to end my life. I was too scared like the coward I am, and decided not to go through with it. I slipped, and the knife skimmed my arm", he said, looking down as he spoke. He looked up, expecting to see Christine laughing or smiling, embarrassed that she even knew this fool.

But she was trembling, not out of fear, but because she had glistening crystal tears falling down her pale cheeks. She looked at him with wonder. "Erik..." was all she could say, and leaned into his good side.

He put his arm around her waist, confused, but drew back in surprise. "Christine, you're soaking wet! What did you do?" he asked her, pulling his cape off of a nearby chair and quickly wrapped it around her trembling frame.

"I had to swim here to see you, Erik. I had to see you. I called after you at the cemetery, but you didn't hear me. But I had to see you", she told him again.

He looked at her, making sure that she was telling the truth. "Do you not trust me?" Christine asked him as if she could read his mind.

He blushed. "It stopped bleeding", he said, looking down at his wound.

She smiled at him "Good, because you're going to go with me to the opera house's Masquerade Ball", she told him.

He looked at her in astonishment. "Christine, you couldn't possibly mean that", he said to her.

"Of course I do", she grabbed his good arm. "Erik, I don't care what people will say about us. I just don't want it to be a secret. I love you, and I intend to tell everyone who cares", she told him. She looked into his eyes with such yearning and love, he wanted to kiss her right there.

And he did. He leaned in and kissed her, as if a reply for her invitation to go with him to the Masquerade. She kissed him back, gently and lightly at first, but then he pressed harder and opened his mouth the slightest bit, and she opened hers as well. He gently bit her lip, making an excited bolt jolt through her spine. This was her Erik. She belonged to him, and he belonged to her. She wanted to hide nothing from him.

"Erik, I love you", she told him again as they each gulped air.

"Christine... I want all of you", he hesitantly told her. If he had to watch her from a distance, one more he time, he would explode. He hoped he hadn't offended her, yet he wanted her so badly.

She looked at him, no doubt at all flashing in her eyes. She was so confident and happy with him. "Alright, Erik. I will", she told him. She took his outstretched hand and he led her to his swan bed.

It seemed so long ago that she had woken on this very same bed, fear bolting throughout her body. Fear of Erik. But now here she was, eager and willing to become one with that same man.


	14. The Music of the NIght

Christine looked at Erik, her eyes so full of love that it almost made Erik cry. He sat down on the bed and she sat on his lap, facing him and wrapping her legs around his waist seductively. He slowly peeled her blouse off, revealing a corset and even under that, a soft chemise slip. He cursed silently, annoyed at the requirements for woman to wear so much at once.

He managed to spin her around so she leaned her back against him. He ran his hand over her bust and corset and slowly moved down, down, father and farther until he realized: she still had her skirt on. She leaned back and pecked a light kiss on the bottom of his cheek, and then stood up, dropping her skirt. But still, there was the corset and slip. His musical fingers worked at the ties of her corset, but fumbled from embarrassment and not knowing how to undo it.

Christine reached back in an uncomfortable position and showed him with her fingers how to undo it. He quickly caught on and undid the rest of the ties, and soon, with a clunk, her corset dropped to the floor.

Her soft slip was all that was left, and with every breath, every movement, he was growing more and more impatient, and finally just tore the slip off of her. She instinctively covered her breasts, but he yanked her hands away.

"My Angel, don't worry. I won't harm you", he told her as his strong hands swooped onto her pale bare breasts and began massaging them with gusto. He lay next to her, his nose in her hair and breathing in her soft scent, not ever wanting to forget it.

Her desires not fully fulfilled, Christine swept one of her own hands over her breasts, making her own body stiffen with pleasure. Erik sensed this, and took off his own shirt.

He had to the most delicate of the woman's body, and had yet to find out the wonders he could bring to Christine. Inexperienced, he roughly lifted her pale, delicate legs over his shoulders so he could look better as his angel. Christine furrowed her thin brow, worried about what he was thinking.

Once he was able to see her clearly, he took in a breath. "Christine, you are so beautiful", escaped from his mouth, making Christine blush even deeper.

He quickly got to work, swooping his tongue around her womanhood until he could feel her dripping. There were nips and wet trails dragged across her womanhood, and she had never before felt anything like this. He had purposely avoided actually going in with his tongue or fingers, wanting to build up Christine's pleasure.

"Erik, please", Christine begged him. He smiled confidently to himself and inserted a finger into Christine, who arched her back in the air. To Erik, that made her look even more beautiful than ever, seeing her in such a natural state. He brought his finger out, already dripping with liquid, and then thrust his finger in again, making Christine squeal with wonderment.

Christine gathered up enough control to grab ahold of Erik's arm. He sensed this urgency and stopped with his finger. Christine traced her finger on the waistband of his trousers, making Erik gulp. "Are you sure, Christine? You know what lies underneath my mask," he said, remembering the last time they had been like this.

"Yes, my Angel. Your face does not matter to me. I actually find it quite attractive", she said, her eyes shining. She craved him.

Ever so slowly, she pulled his pants down. Erik closed his eyes, wondering what she would think when she saw him for the first time. He knew his pants were off by now, and he knew that she hadn't looked at him when he heard an ever slight intake of breath at the sight of him.

Christine was amazed. She didn't know how or why she felt this way, but she had never seen a man like this before. She took in all of his features, admiring his well built chest and chiseled muscles. They weren't that extreme, but that was what she preferred.

But then a sight too much for her no longer innocent eyes dawned upon her: slashes of scars covered diagonally and every which way on his body. They were faded, but still evident. There were scraps as well, and Christine couldn't bare to see her Angel's wounds. He didn't deserve this, and soon it hit her in a wave of fresh tears.

Forgetting their intimate act that was supposed to come, Erik worried about his Angel. "Christine, why do you cry?" he asked, cradling her head in his arms, her soft curls loose and sprayed across the pillow and now his arms.

"Angel, you didn't deserve that. Why? The pain you've gone through... How could I not see?" she said, stressing herself with the pain her Angel had gone through.

"Christine, no. That is in the past. As long as you stay with me, as long as we're together, you can slowly start to mend those scars. To heal them completely. I need your love, Christine. That has been the most recent form of torture for me: not being able to gain your love. Because I love you, Christine. And I always have", he told her, soothing her quaking, shaking body. "It would hurt me even more to see anything like this happen to you", he said quietly, remembering when Carlotta raped her.

"And you don't think I feel the same way about you?" Christine asked him, tears silently streaming down her face as she looked at him.

He buried his head in her still bare breasts. She awkwardly put her hand on his head, reminded of what they were supposed to be doing now.

He emerged. Christine glanced at his erection, knowing they should do it soon. "Erik...?" she asked him, hoping that he would realize what she was hinting at.

"Alright, Christine. Just please don't cry. I love you too much to see you hurt", he said, and glanced at his beautiful Angel's body once more. He made it obvious, and Christine blushed as his gaze swept across her breasts, and ended at her long, lean, and pale legs. He had seen her like this from a distance, and when he had saved her from Carlotta, but this was the closest he had gotten.

He positioned himself over her so her could insert himself easier. Mustering as much control as he possibly could, he let himself only be dipped into her, just his tip. He lubricated it as Christine shuddered at such a light touch. "It's going to hurt", he warned her.

Christine only nodded in response, preparing herself for what lay ahead. He slowly eased himself into her, grimacing even though he felt no pain. He just hated seeing Christine in pain. He patiently waited for the pain to leave her face until he began thrusting. It came in rhythm with his breaths, and Christine screamed his name, the pleasure so enlightening but yet so mysterious... she couldn't even explain it.

He slowed his thrusting down as his breaths caught up to him- both of them. He finally collapsed beside her, his muscular chest rising quickly. He glanced over at Christine, and he could see her pert breasts also rising heavily. even then, he thought she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Oh, God, Erik. I love you", was all she could manage to say, and even that was in breaths and quiet.

"My Angel, thank you", he leaned over and stroked her blushed red cheek, moving a piece of damp curl away from her face. She moved onto her side and smiled at him, just their eyes speaking to each other. She loved him more than words could tell, and now the burden of Raoul had gone from her mind.


	15. An Awkward Ball

They fell asleep together in a sweet spooning position, exhausted from earlier. Christine was the first to wake up. She saw that they had moved out of their spooning position and she lay next to him, her head in the crook of his neck and her hands on his shoulder. He had a hand on her soft, pale stomach. The lightest of linens covered both of them from the waist down. Guilty feelings of Raoul shook her even wider awake, until she realized that they weren't together anymore.

She closed her eyes remembering right before they had gone to sleep. They were both so tired from their intimate act, but each had their eyes shining with excitement and pleasure. He had sang her a lullaby to sleep, stroking her cheek and still admiring her body. Her body, which he had claimed as his just moments before. Christine had fallen asleep, and Erik had remained awake for a bit, looking at her breasts rising and falling with every rhythmic breath of sleep. This was his Christine, his Angel, who he had just made love to. He couldn't believe it. Never before had he dreamed that she would do this with him-any woman, as a matter of fact.

He stirred beside her, but Christine's eyes remained closed, until she felt him pushing stubborn strands of curls out of her face. She knew he was awake. "Erik?" her eyes opened, looking into his beautiful eyes.

"I'm sorry, Christine. I didn't mean to wake you", he said.

"No, it's quite alright. I was already awake anyway. Besides, it wouldn't have mattered to me if I were asleep", she told him, caressing the non-masked side of his face.

Erik reached over and pulled on his pants, but Christine just lay there. She was still tired, and also a little sore- her virgin body wasn't used to that.

"I was thinking, Christine. Carlotta cannot stay. It just won't work, because you need to be the star, the one everyone praises. And at the Masquerade... I was thinking of presenting my finished piece to the opera managers. I was planning on doing it alone, but if you would walk down with me..." he looked over at Christine, her body almost glowing.

She giggled, a soft sound that made Erik almost groan in pleasure. "Of course, Erik! You don't even need to ask. I am yours", she told him.

"Christine, I hate to say this, but Madame Giry and Meg will be looking for you. I know they are", Erik said, truly looking sad and disappointed.

"Alright, I was just thinking the same thing. But I'll meet you tonight, here, right before the Masquerade starts", she said to him. She didn't feel like putting her corset back on, and just out her slightly damp dressing gown on over her slim naked figure.

He couldn't help but admire her, even though he had gotten all of her last night, as she moved, her figure underneath clearly visible in the gossamer fabric. Every curve showed, reminding him of how beautiful she really was. Not that he needed reminding.

He rowed Christine back, and helped her step through her mirror before he left her with a passionate kiss. She stared at the mirror for a minute afterwards, mesmerized by his beauty, but then there was a knocking on the door. She started and pulled on the nearest dress to her, ashamed at the thought of anyone but Erik seeing her like this.

It was Meg and Madame Giry, as she had expected. "Christine, we've been looking for you. Where have you been?" Meg asked her.

Christine answered, "Just around", in an entranced voice. She could still feel his touch...

"But... " Meg protested.

Madame Giry interrupted her. "Meg, let her be. that is reason enough", she said. Madame Giry closed the door behind her, looking at Christine with a knowing look.

* * *

Hours later, Christine was once again at the catacombs of the opera house. She was in her Masquerade attire, a pink beautiful gown with roses on it, and white gloves and a silver sparkling masquerade mask, a rose placed carefully in the corner. She looked around for Erik, but couldn't find him. He was probably getting dressed. She sat down on his piano bench and waited.

* * *

They made their way toward the ball. He led to a dark room. "Open this door, and that is where the ball is", he told her.

She smiled at him, always amazed with his vast knowledge of the opera house. He opened the door for her, straightening himself out. This was _his _opera house.

Everyone stopped and stared at them, some curious but most of them frightened. Christine proudly held his hand as they entered the now silent room. She moved closer to his strong body, scared.

Christine nervously touched the engagement ring on the left hand on her ring finger. Erik had given it to her just minutes ago.

A familiar figure hurried up, another familiar figure catching up to him. They held hands as they watched Christine and Erik. The male figure moved his eyes onto the engagement ring, and let out a gasp of shock.

Christine moved her head toward the noise to find Raoul staring at her, Meg right by his side and holding his hand. Christine gripped even tighter onto Erik, who then began to tell everyone about his new opera.

"_Why so silent good Messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me, good Messieurs? I have written you an opera. Here I bring the finished score: Don Juan Triumphant! I have your Christine, and now she belongs to me!" _he said, and lifted her hand for the audience to see her ring.

Christine blushed, but she loved Erik so she stayed silent. He wrapped his arm around her tiny waist. _"She has returned to me, her teacher. Her teacher", _he added. Raoul let go of Meg's hand and moved closer to Christine.

"Christine?" he whispered. Erik tightened his grip on her waist tensely.

"Raoul, no. Please don't", she begged him.

"But..." he said. His pleading eyes were almost too much for Christine to bear. She let go of Erik's had, letting it fall to his side. She didn't see his fist clenched in anger.

Raoul grabbed her left hand and looked at her engagement ring. He looked at her. "Why, Christine?" he asked her sadly.

He held onto her hand, but she wiggled her hand out of his grip. "Because I love him", she answered softly, and walked back to Erik and held his hand once more.

"Can we please go? I'm sorry, but with him here..." Christine whispered to Erik. He nodded in reply and threw the bag that held his new opera onto the floor for the managers to read. They left as mysteriously as they had came.


	16. Truth is Revealed

**BY THE WAY: This is NOT the last chapter. It totally seems like it, but it certainly isn't. :) Enjoy!**

"I'm sorry to cut the Masquerade short for us. But you saw him..." Christine told Erik as they settled back in at Erik's lair.

But the truth was, that Christine was afraid. She was afraid of the life that lay ahead of her. Even with Erik in it, it would be a life of darkness. It would be so hard for her, and she couldn't manage to forget the look on Raoul's pleading face, and she had been hesitate when she had told him that she loved Erik. She just hoped it didn't show.

Erik place his jacket on the piano bench. "I saw the look he gave you Christine. You're lucky I couldn't see the look on your face", he hinted to her.

Christine peeled her gloves off and set her mask down. "How could you think that, Erik? Did last night mean nothing to you?" she asked him.

"It meant the world to me, Christine. You had no idea how long I had waited for that. But did it mean anything to you?" he asked, sitting at the piano.

Christine's slim body was able to fit beside him on the bench. "We made love to each other, Erik. How could I not feel any meaning in that? We got the closest we've ever been, and I'll never forget it, no matter what. You of all people should be able to realize this", Christine said, her voice trembling. Out of fear of losing Erik. Again.

Without another word, and hoping this would be proof enough, Christine leaned to kiss him. At first he hesitated, but then he kissed with as much fierceness as he had last night.

Oddly, they were interrupted by a cry. "Christine?!"

Christine could tell that it was Raoul's voice. But what was he doing here? A thought dawned on her. He had seen their kiss, she was sure of it...

Raoul did indeed stand there, his costume still on but wet. "Go away, boy", Erik grunted, also obviously not okay with anyone else seeing them like this.

"Christine, don't listen to him; come back to me! He's controlling you and brain washing you. You must be able to see this. Please, don't let him do this to you anymore", Raoul said. He sounded so pleading, and Erik still sat silently next to Christine, not touching her in any way.

She thought about this. Erik's music _was _enthralling... could she had been so lost? She didn't know. Was this blind love she felt for Erik- that she only loved his music and not him?

Christine left Erik's side and walked to Raoul, who was still standing outside the locked gate. She walked through the water, not even caring anymore. As she got close enough, Raoul reached out to touch her face. At first she pulled away, but then she sank into his grip, comforted by his touch. It was light, airy, and loving. Erik's had felt dark, controlling, and fierce now that she thought back on it.

Flashes of last night fled through Christine's brain as Raoul stroked her cheek. which man did she truly love?

As she thought that, a splashing noise came from behind her. It was Erik. Christine turned, surprised. Erik gripped her shoulders tightly and lightly shook her. "Christine, don't listen to him. He's the one that's brain washing you. Please listen to me", he told her in a growling voice. Sincere, but to Christine, it was plain frightening.

"No, Erik. I don't know what to think anymore. Please don't do this to me..." she trailed off as his face lunged for hers, and soon his lips were crashing against her soft red lips. She felt his hands move up and down the length of her back, and finally they cupped her ass.

She was so surprised, but the adrenaline got to her and she pushed him away. "Christine... I... I was just showing him, that you do love me. You know you do. You proved it to me last..." she cut him off.

"I...I'm not too sure of that now. Maybe your music did possess me, I don't know for sure. But please, don't force me to make my choice. I need to think", she said, tears running down her cheeks, the ones that Erik had so lovingly caressed...

"How could you? How dare you? Don't you dare force yourself on her. I'm right here!" Raoul cried angrily.

"Boy, shut up. It's not like you could do anything", Erik said quietly.

But then anger got the best of him as Christine reached over to brush the blond hair out of Raoul's face.

"Alright Christine. Go now! Go now and leave me! Forget me. Forget all you've seen. YOU'RE JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!" he yelled at her and pulled the lever to open the gate.

Christine cast a frightened glance at Erik and rushed to hug Raoul, who put a protective arm around her waist. She kissed his cheek, then was surprised by herself. Since when had she decided that she loved Raoul?

Erik turned away from them, the sight of the couple too much for them to bear. He walked next to the piano bench, and picked up Christine's mask.

He ran his finger over the careful stitching of the rose. "_Masquerade. Paper faces on parade. Masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you",_ he sang softly to himself. He tore his mask away from his face, his black wig coming with it. He didn't care anymore. She was gone, and that was all that mattered.

He gathered the courage to look up, assuming that they had already left. But there she was, standing right there in front of him, a sad look in her eyes.

His sad soul brightened, hopeful, oh, ever so hopeful, that she was back. To him, her Angel of Music.

She twisted something off of her finger. Oh, God, no. She wasn't... But she was. She twisted the ring off of her finger and handed it to Erik, avoiding his eyes. The fingers met in the transfer, and it was longer than it should have been.

Her hand trembled away, no doubt out of fear of him. She glanced at him, then hitched up her skirts, revealing just a little of her white ankles, and ran back to Raoul, splashing in the water. They held hands, and she leaned her head into his, and he smoothed the back of her hair down.

Never did she glance back. Never did she see her Angel, tears pouring down his deformed face as she faced reality: Christine wouldn't come back. She and Raoul belonged together.

They turned the corner. They were gone. Forever, because surely she wouldn't want to venture anywhere near his lair.

"IT'S OVER NOW THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT!" he yelled more than sang, smashing a candlestick into the mirrors that usually lay covered with blankets. He had uncovered them, confident about his relationship with Christine and overjoyed that someone finally excepted him.

But that was a lie.


	17. Too Much

Christine went to bed that night at the opera house, trying to make Erik disappear out of her mind. But it was impossible, and she could still feel his touch on every centimeter of her body. She could see his horribly sad face staring at her, no mask to strain him back.

She tied her nightgown on. A candle in the corner blew out, making Christine jump with fear. That was what had happened when he had visited her that night...

"Erik? Why do you haunt me like this?" she asked aloud. She knew she was here; she could almost feel his presence.

There was no reply, but then he spoke, quietly and sadly. "I can't stay away from you, Christine. I love you too much", he said.

"No, don't do this to me! You're... trying to control me, like Raoul said!"

"Christine, I think you're just controlling yourself. And so is Raoul", he said distantly.

"Don't blame this on him. Please!" she said, expecting an answer. None came, and soon Christine went into bed and tried to fall asleep.

_I think you're just controlling yourself,_ kept going through her mind as she tossed and turned, trying to forget.

She managed to get it out of her mind for a little bit, but her sleepless night ahead of her just reminded her of the night he first came to her when she was a little girl. She finally gave up and went to the chapel for her father.

She knelt down and lit the candle for her father. "_Angel of Music, you deceived me. Angel no one, deserves this", _she sang softly, more to Erik than anyone else.

"I gave you my mind blindly. What did I do to deserve this? What?" she whispered to herself.

After praying to her father, she left, finally feeling tired. After tossing and turning for a half an hour more, she finally drifted into a soft sleep.

_"No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing will harm you. Your fears are far behind you", Raoul sang to Christine as snow drifted around them. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, slowly rocking back and forth._

_Christine held onto him, smiling at his affection. He continued to sing, but then his voice changed. "Christine I love you", a powerful voice wafted into her ear's. Christine turned into surprise, to find Erik standing there._

_She gasped and backed away, frightened. He faded away, and then her father appeared in his place. "Christine, listen to your own mind, and try not to influenced by anyone else. Do it for me. Please. That's all I ask of you", her father said. But as the last sentence he spoke, two loving male voices drifted Christine's way. It was both Erik and Raoul singing to her._

_Raoul voice was getting more and more powerful, and both Erik and his own voice started to fade away. Something about the way he looked at her... She ran towards him, just as he was almost completely faded._

_"Erik, no!" she screamed._

_"Christine, it was your choice. You made it, and I realize now that I couldn't do anything to influence that choice. It's yours, Christine. Yours. Forgive me for everything, all the torture I've put you through..." he said, and then he was gone._

_"NO ERIK! You never tortured me, please don't leave! Erik..." she said, and burst into tears._

_Raoul came up behind her and roughly grabbed her neck. "You're mine now, Christine. We're going to get married, and you'll finally belong to me. After all this time. You won't ever see him again, I'll make sure of that!" he said, and then he kissed her harshly. He opened his mouth to violently bite her lip, and she tasted blood..._

Christine awoke in a cold sweat, every part of her body shaking. Her lip was bleeding; she had been biting it from nervousness. She looked around, half expecting to see Raoul and Erik looming over her.

But there was no one, and sunlight filtered through the window, the complete opposite of what she felt inside. She did indeed make her choice.

Her choice? She wouldn't stay with either of them.

* * *

Even though she was exhausted from everything, it was a Sunday and almost everyone was still sleeping form the Masquerade. She took this as her chance to visit Raoul and tell him of her decision.

On the way there, Christine nervously picked at a thread on her shawl. This didn't feel right. Not at all. why was she doing this? Was it possible to love two men at once? It was all so confusing, especially for a young girl like her.

The dreaded moment had come, and Raoul's big home came into view. They finally stopped and Christine said thank you and paid the driver.

With a trembling hand, she knocked on the door. An unknown man answered. "I'm here to speak to the Vicomte, please. Tell him that it's Christine Daae", she said.

He raised an eyebrow at her name but invited her into the parlor. Christine patiently waited to see Raoul.

He walked in and leaned to kiss Christine. She moved her head away, avoiding his eyes.

He frowned. "What, Christine? Don't tell me he's visited you again..." he trailed off and shuddered at the thought.

"No, Raoul. I've made up my mind. It's neither you or him. Please believe me when I tell you this. We'll all just have to move on", she said, waiting for his response.

"Christine, no. I can't believe you and I won't let myself. See, he's doing it again. You love one of us, and he is persuading you to either pick him or neither", Raoul pointed out.

"No he's not Raoul. I just need to think and choose. But my heart will choose, not Erik's influence. I... I don't even know anymore", she said fretfully.

"Shh, Christine. Don't worry. You'll make the right choice, whatever that may be", he said, and then kissed her.

Her eyes shot open in fear, but his warm and comforting hands trailing along her back made her sink into his kiss out of comfort. She needed this affection, especially when it felt like she would never be able to choose.

She got ahold of herself and backed away from his kiss. She had to wait until she decided. _But what about Erik? Maybe that one time has decided for you, _she thought, remembering his hands everywhere on her. Did she actually enjoy that? Now the thought of her doing that with him made her cringe.

"Raoul, no. Not yet. I need to think", she said again, and headed toward the door.

"Alright Christine. But when you decide, remember that I'm always here for you", he said, his voice suggesting that she would come to her senses and pick him.

She abruptly turned away and fled, all her emotions clashing into each other. Being tired from not sleeping last night did not help.

She ran outside and stopped at a quiet spot under a tree to think. It didn't help. _Erik had been so kind to me, and we even made love. That must mean something. Besides, he's my Angel... But Raoul? He's my childhood sweetheart, and he would be any girl's dream. We would be able to raise children properly, in a real house, unlike if I stayed with Erik. They would be living in darkness. But I can't even imagine life without Erik. He's been such a big part ever since I came to the opera house..._

Christine continued like this until her brain was whirling at super speeds trying to think straight. Her weary body had had enough, and finally, she just collapsed under the tree, not a soul around to see or hear her.


	18. The Decision Made

**Thanks for the great comments. I should probably be studying my AP cause the test its really soon... but your comments just keep me going! But that's a good thing, and thank you so much for your support! :) I promise, much more chapter uploads after next Thursday (the 16th) which is my Final Exam. Thanks for being patient :D.**

She had awaken silently... But where was she? Oh my God, it couldn't be...

The swan bed cradled her perfectly and the smell of him lingered on it. Him. Erik.

Instinct told her to scream, but something else told her differently. He walked through the opening right then and she quickly closed her eyes. She didn't want to see him or speak to him. She would put that off for as much as possible.

To her horror, he knelt down beside her bed. What was he going to do to her?

He just looked her and hummed a lullaby. It was her favorite song of his-he had written it just for her. The Music of the Night.

If Christine was trying not to let him on that she was awake, she would have been sobbing very hard. He was her Angel, and he never meant her any harm. Why couldn't she have seen that? But Raoul... she realized that this whole time, it had actually been Raoul trying to brainwash her.

Then he reached up and stroked her face, whisking the curls that had fallen into her eye area. This was her chance. She quietly lifted her hand up and brought it on top of his own hand, and pressed it to his cheek. She opened her eyes, and he quickly drew his own hand away and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, Christine. you were just lying there on the street. I thought you were dead..." he whispered the latter, and Christine felt her heart soar.

"Don't be, Erik. Please don't me sorry. You saved me. And your singing was beautiful", she reassured him, reaching for his hand yet again, and yet again he drew it away.

"You heard that?" his face turned four shades darker with embarrassment.

"Yes. I thought I would never hear it again..." she trailed off, thinking about a life without her Angel. She shuddered at the thought.

"God, Christine! Why do you do this to me?! You plan on apologizing to me, saying you were wrong and that you'll stay with me forever and ever. But I know that's wrong! The only reason you keep coming back is because you feel sorry for me, and you feel pity. Pity, Christine! Damn you, why do you do this to me?!" he stood up violently and yelled at her. He had had enough, and he wasn't going to let Christine play with his emotions like that ever again.

"But Erik..." she started, but he cut her off.

"No Christine. Just forget it, because I know you're going to betray me and hurt me again. I'm going to bring you back, but don't come back. Please. I'm even begging you. I don't need more torture than I've already had!" he said, putting his cape back on.

The last sentence strangled Christine with the knowledge of his past. He was right, though. How could she blame him? She had been terrible to him, and after all the things she did to him, this was how she repaid him.

"I'm so sorry Erik. I really am. But I see how you feel, and I know that I was wrong in doing those things. So if you want me to leave and never come down here again, then I will do as you asked", Christine said haltingly, her crying so hard that it was hard to get the words out.

A part of him inside wilted as he listened to her speak and saw how sad he was. But he couldn't back down now. He couldn't be that weak.

"Alright, Christine. Come with me, and I'll bring you back to the opera house", he said, his voice hard and gruff as it covered the real emotion he felt inside.

He didn't even take her hand. All he did was help her into and out of the boat like any gentleman would. He didn't hold her longer than necessary; didn't speak or touch her in any way except for that.

Christine sadly walked away, not even waving or saying goodbye, because she knew that if she did, he wouldn't do anything back.

Part of him wanted her to say something or wave back or even embrace him. He almost did, then realized that he would seem too forgiving, and she probably wouldn't see it and just keep walking.

They didn't do or say anything as they departed.

Christine wanted to just collapse on her bed. She didn't even care anymore. It was all over, and there was nothing she could do about it. Everything: his teaching, his singing and composing for her, and even their love-making had all been for nothing. This was how it was going to end.

Before she opened the door to her very small room (Carlotta had moved back into her old room-the Prima Donna's room) Madame Giry interrupted her.

"Christine we are going to begin rehearsal of his play tomorrow. His instructions say that that you are to play Aminta", Madame Giry looked closely at Christine, and by the look on her face she new that the child was crying, but didn't say a word. She had her ideas of what might have happened.

Christine thought that he wouldn't want her to play the part anymore. That was when they still were in...

But she had an idea. Surely because of today, he would be upset if she were to play the part, because from her understanding, there were some very passionate parts. But she wanted to fell him, to feel his touch and hear him sing to her one last time, and surely this would be the only way. "Of course, Madame Giry. And I would love to have the part. Thank you for letting me know", she heard herself say. It wasn't the usual Christine-this voice was much more distant and stiff; unknowing.

Madame Giry simply nodded and left Christine, knowing that she wanted to be alone. But she also needed to talk to someone. Someone that she hadn't spoken to in a very long time.

* * *

"No, Christine, I told you to leave me!" his voice rang out and his piano playing abruptly stopped.

"It's me", Madame Giry said in her heavy accent, her voice quite timid compared to his'.

He turned around in wonderment, not knowing who else would visit him (and actually be able to find his lair in the first place) besides his still beloved Christine. "Oh. It's you", he said, disappointment creeping into his voice. _But you told her to leave, so don't be disappointed! _he thought to himself, scolding himself for not controlling his emotions.

"Why have you come here?" he asked her, succeeding in having a impassive tone.

"I come here to speak to you about Miss Daae", she replied.

He closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear even himself _think _about her. Why would this old woman dare to speak to him about her? But thoughts of long ago made their way into his mind...

_"Beware, the Devil's Child!" a gruff voice said mysteriously. He shut his eyes tightly, and waited for the bag to be released off of his head. Finally the sweeping paw came, dragging the bag with it. There came a burst of laughter, and he opened his eyes, wondering who had decided to mock him today. There was a girl, though. Her eyes were sad and looking at him, and he saw something he had never seen before in his seven years of life. It was pity._

_Later the same girl came, just as he had gotten the nerve to straggle his master. The police soon came, but before that she took him somewhere; she later explained that it was the opera house. He lived there, passing the days by inventing, finding comfort from music that wafted down from above, and decided to finally try to mimic those sounds._

She had saved him. He should and would never forget that. she deserved the right to speak to him about Christine if she really wanted to.

"Alright, but make it brief", he said, and sighed.

"What has happened between the two of you? I didn't want to inquire before, but, Erik, she was crying today. She's cried before too, I know. But today was different. She seemed to frail and distant", Madame Giry said.

"Madame Giry, you really have no right to know about what has happened between the two of us. But I know that you are like a mother to her, so I shall tell you. She just can't make up her mind. So I decided for her. She is to forget about me, forget about everything she's seen", he said simply. Or, rather on the outside he said it simply, but on the inside he felt pain rippled through every part of his body. Pain and aching for her.

Madam Giry paused for a little before she spoke again. It was only some of the truth, she knew. "I see. Well, that's all, I guess. I had better be on my way", she said.

He nodded and turned back to his music, but she spoke again just as she was about to walk out the door. "She was crying very hard, Monsieur. Are you sure you made the right choice for her?" she asked him, and, not waiting for an answer, she left.


	19. The Distance Between Them

**Hey, everyone! Check out my poll about POTO. I want to hear all of YOUR opinions! Thanks for reading :) Also, sorry about the short chapter... I just thought that it was a good place to end :)**

The next morning Christine woke up, and realized. There was no angel to look forward to today. She sighed and dressed, remembering the rehearsal for his play.

She washed up quickly and glanced at her mirror, expecting to see anything-even Erik himself standing there. But all that was there was another Christine staring back at her. Her pale skin looked even paler from her sadness, and her eyes were dim. Her hair was in tendrils around her face, and she didn't even care what she looked like.

Christine closed her eyes and leaned against the door. Did she really make the right decision when she agreed to be in his play? He, the one who turned away from her. She knew that he was probably suffering and was as miserable as her. But she wasn't going to visit him, for that wasn't what he wanted. She would have to wait for him to come to her.

Christine went to the rehearsal, and found everyone looking at their costumes and chatting. She frowned, not remembering when she was supposed to have gotten her costume.

"Oh, there you are Christine. Here is your costume; go try it on. Although I'm sure it's the right size. He made it for you", Madame Giry approached her, looking at Christine closely.

Christine was taken aback by this fact, but then realized that, of course, he would make the costumes himself. He was so meticulous when it came to his own works of art. But she tried to clear her mind: she didn't want to think about him.

"All... all right, Madame Giry. I'll try it on now, and thank you", Christine said, and then left in a hurry to go back to her room.

She got there and closed the door, relieved for some more time alone. She spread the gossamer piece of clothing out on her bed and gasped in shock.

How dare he make her wear something like this?

There was a blouse made out of the thinnest fabric she had ever seen, and it also came with a deep brown corset to be worn over it. The sleeves were pretty and lacey, but the gown was the most seductive thing Christine had ever seen. The skirt was clearly see through with light behind it, and it appeared to be made also out of light fabric.

She gulped and tried it on, vowing not to let anyone see her in it until it was absolutely necessary. She looked in the mirror. At only seventeen years of age, it made her look like an older, mature woman. The straps of the costume, she noticed, kept falling down, revealing her porcelain pale and thin shoulders. The straight neckline scooped down; the farthest neckline she had ever worn. The tiniest group of roses clustered at the tip of the top of the corset.

"You look quite nice, my dear", came a frighteningly familiar voice.

But how could it be? Unless he had changed his mind...

"Yes? It's you, isn't it", she said hopefully.

"Why yes, my dear. You have gotten quite used to the sound of my voice, haven't you", he said, still invisible.

"Of course, my Angel. But what are you doing here? I thought that..." she trailed off, almost as if she was scared to remind him.

"I know. That is... still required of you. But I come here to tell you one thing, and I'll get right to it. I know I have also been your teacher, despite, err, other things. But there will be no more voice lessons, Christine. You can manage perfectly well, and you have already learned a good amount from me", he finished.

Christine was astonished. "But...your play. I can still learn, Angel", she begged him.

"Don't call me Angel! After what has happened, I hardly think it appropriate to call me Angel. Yes you can still learn, but you don't have to continue with me", he said. He could not show his face, for there were silent tears dripping down his face. His voice didn't shake, as he had come quite good at controlling the emotions in his voice.

"But, you're the only teacher I have ever known. You created me!" she pleaded, and felt the straps of her dress fall once more. She let them be. She needed to use all her womanly powers possible to gain him back.

He sighed. "Christine, no. I cannot teach you after... what we've been through", he confessed.

"But, then, it won't have to be for us. It'll be less often, and only for the performance you have written. Please, I still need..." she stopped, realizing that she had said too much.

"That you still need my love? You still need to see me? That may be so, but I cannot have you putting me through even more torture than I have endured. If you ask so much of me though... maybe I will make an offer", he said. In his heart, he wanted to so badly be able to see her, even if only for lessons, everyday.

"Please, Angel... sorry, Erik", she said. He stiffened as he heard her obey his orders, and stiffened even more when he heard how coldly she said his name.

"Once a week. No more, no less. Take it, or leave it. It's your choice", he told her.

Luckily this was an easy choice. "Of course. When will we begin?" she asked him innocently.

He could see her, but she still couldn't see him. Her pale shoulders gleamed in the candlelight, and the dress her made for her drooped dangerously low around her cleavage area. "Tonight, Christine", he said, and left, not being able to take in any more of the Angel he could no longer have.

"Thank you, then", she said, expecting a reply, but she could feel that he had left. She sighed and changed. Why did things have to be this way? Could she really ever grow out of the hurt she felt about losing him?


	20. A Misunderstanding

**APWH Exam is finally over as of today! and Summer vacation if on the way, so that means that I'll have more time to post new chapters. Just gotta get through finals now :) (At least when I type this, not sure when it will be when I post this)**

That night just came too quickly. But Christine waited and waited for him to come and pick her up; he ever did. Finally, late at night, she dressed into her nightgown, ready for bed.

As she got underneath the covers, he appeared in her mirror. She looked at him in surprise. "Why can't you just use the door?" was all she asked him.

"Then I wouldn't exactly play my part as the Phantom, would I?" he said, and reached out to take her hand.

She took it softly, already mesmerized by him. "This is just a voice lesson, Christine. I need you to remember that", he reminded her.

This made her mad at him again, and she let go of his hand quickly. Just because she was angry at him, she hoped she looked seductive in her see through nightgown. And he knew that he couldn't see more.

They silently went the same way they had so long ago, but then they were star crossed lovers. Now, they were stiff and awkward toward each other.

As he helped her out of the boat, touching her as little as possible and not being very gracious, she finally approached him with a question she had been meaning to ask. "If you hate me so much, why did you let me resume voice lessons with you?" she blurted out.

He stood lost in thought for a moment. "I don't hate you, Christine. As a matter of fact I love you. I just don't want to put you through what you've put _me _through. As in, changing between me and that boy. I know how you feel about him", he said simply, looking away.

"Do you really, Erik? Are you sure you understand? Because judging by what you just said, you don't know about anything that is going on between us", she said angrily.

"See, there you go again. Looking for my pity. I won't give it you. You know, Christine, if you keep this up, my love for you could soon turn to hate", he said, ignoring the voice telling him not to lie.

"Then, why, Erik? Why would you still offer me lessons? Why do you keep managing to always see me?" she asked him.

"Alright, then Christine. I understand. Leave me and go back to that boy. Go, I'll even take you!" he said, putting his cape back on.

"You've been a stranger to me. You've been possessed by bling hatred for me. But...No, Erik. Wait. I'm sorry. Please, let's continue with our lesson. I need to practice for Don Juan", she gulped. She couldn't lose him.

She was tantalizing, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her. The little girl he had helped was now a queen of beauty, with her long, chocolatey curls and her pale skin. Her eyes shone, even when she was angry. She had been through horrible things in her life; her bright eyes had been a little less bright ever since she had been raped. They would go dull with the loss of him. He didn't realize this-he thought she loved Raoul still. But he would teach her. God forbid, he wouldn't touch her in any way, but he would teach her.

"We'll just practice then, but not for long", he added, closing his eyes to shut out her curvaceous and voluptuous form, even easier to see with the candle light reflecting behind her thin and flowing nightgown.

"Do you sing for me, Christine? Or do you sing for my past, or even for that boy? Was everything we've ever done together just out of...pity?" he asked her when they finished her lesson.

"I don't give my body out because of someone's pity. I let them have it because I love them", was all she replied.

"But you can sing _to _me. But you won't sing _for _me. I know it, Christine Daae. I see it".

She was silent for a moment. "I can't sing for you anymore, Erik. I used to be able to, but now, no matter how hard I try, I can't sing for you. You're right-I do indeed sing for your past. Your past that has made you the cruel man you are today".

"Did my love and affection mean anything to you, Christine? Was it all just... a little girlish fantasy, a fairytale? _That's _the only reason you've pretended to love me?"

"Oh, Erik. If only you could see. It meant the _world _to me. It's the man now, the man looking at me this very moment that makes me like this. I never pretended to love you. Did that one night say that I didn't really love you? Or were you so lost in the indulging of a woman that you couldn't see?" she asked him back, a sharp tone edging its way into her voice.

"Yes, Christine. I was lost. Indulging out of love with a woman I had admired ever since I had seen her. It was something I had only dreamed of, something I had never thought would never really happen. But it did, and when the time came, I savored it".

"Then why do you treat me like this, Erik? Why won't you let me show you the love I have for you? I do have it-you just won't let me show it".

"Christine, you've tortured me with the love you say you have. I hardly thought that anyone was able to be tortured that much. Not having real love is better for me and you than to not have the false love you claim you have".

"I think it's your fault that you have never experienced love. People have loved you, as I do, but you cannot except it. You are unwilling and not ready for it. But when you are ready, and you realize that I do love you, I'll always be here, waiting", Christine said, just one tear sliding down her eye after she blinked.

"Don't lie to me, Christine. Please. You don't understand... how hard it is to believe you after what you've done to me. I've seen everything you've done with that boy and the admiration in your eyes for him".

"Then take me back. Do you want me to just say it? Do you force me to one day say it? Say that I love him and not you. Well for the sake of you, then, I shall try my hardest. And I'll tell you when I am able to love him. No matter how long it takes, I'll do my best to love him for you. You seem to want me to. Therefore, I shall".

"Christine, I didn't mean..." he started. She had gotten it all wrong.

"I heard what you said the first time, Erik. But please, just take me back to my room. And I think we don't need to be seeing each other, if that's the case. I'll just practice what you've already taught me on my own. Thank you for teaching me, but I'm afraid that's all I can really thank you for", she said.

Those words were worse than any torture he had ever endured. This just couldn't be. No. Christine Daae, with her beautifully pale shoulders clearly visible now that her too-big sleeves had slipped from her thin shoulders, had just officially declared everything, everything that mattered to him, over.


	21. Falling in Love

**These lyrics or any other lyrics are not mine; they are Andrew Lloyd Webber's. So...**

Don Juan was drawing nearer and nearer, and with each passing day, both Christine and Erik felt the dread of seeing each other and even touching each other, enveloping their minds.

They hadn't seen each other since their falling out, and Christine had indeed began to see Raoul, and quite often too. She had thought, when she had promised Erik that she would try her best to love Raoul, that it would be very difficult to love Raoul.

But as a matter of fact, it had been quite easy. Her love for Raoul was bursting at the seams, and it seemed to her. She felt her need for him grow stronger and stronger, until one day, it became obvious.

* * *

Raoul picked Christine up after their last rehearsal of Don Juan. He had invited her for supper at his house.

They walked into his house, and Christine finally blurted out what she had wanted to say for so long now. "Raoul, it scares me. Don't make me do this. He'll do something-even take me-I know. We could be parted forever. He may not even let me go", she told Raoul. She had been dreading tomorrow night and had managed to keep it to herself until now. She was so scared.

"Christine, don't worry. I'll be right there, and I'll do anything for you, especially if he dares to do anything he's not supposed to do. But what are you supposed to do together, anyway?" Raoul asked.

Christine looked away. "He's supposed to...seduce me, and touch me..." she gulped. She didn't want to be telling Raoul this.

Raoul looked down in embarrassment. "_No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you", _Raoul softly sang, as if it were a lullaby to Christine.

Christine looked up at him and smiled. He took her hand and led her to a balcony off of his bedroom.

_"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say you love me", _Christine sang back.

_"You know I do", _Raoul assured her, gently rotating her around so he stood behind her, holding onto her waist. His hand brushed Christine's breast, making her tremble. This was so unlike Erik, whose love was deep, unknown. Raoul's kind words, love, and touch was light and made her happy, and she felt like she could trust him so well.

"_Love me, that's all I ask of you", _they sand together. Christine took this as her chance and kissed Raoul passionately. They stood there, kissing and taking occasional gasps for air, the cold air surrounding them and snowflakes whirling.

The lone figure, the same one who had admired the same Christine Daae from afar as a little girl, watched them now, and turned away. But then there was a rustling-they had stopped kissing, maybe she was changing her mind-and they were looking at each other.

Christine led Raoul back into the room. Wondering if she was indeed changing her mind, Erik moved closer so he could hear and see what they were doing.

Raoul and Christine sat down on the bed, and began kissing once more. The red cape that Christine had been wearing fell to the floor, and Raoul took his own coat off.

Erik's eyes went wide. No. This couldn't be happening. Not Christine, no. That would be much to cruel of her. Not after what _they _had done. This was a lie...

And yet it was indeed happening. He looked away, not able to bear it. He glanced back at the mating couple, and Christine was stripped bare of her clothing; Raoul's pants were still on, but his shirt had been thrown carelessly aside.

That body, the same one Erik himself had made love to, was now belonging to someone else. Someone he had hated ever since he had realized the purpose of this...boy.

Now, oh God, he was running his fingers over her nipples. A rosy blush spread over her cheeks, and she cupped her hand over Raoul's own cheek to get his attention. Her eyes sparkled, as they had once done in the presence of him.

She took ahold of his hand and brought it down, down, further until it reached it destination. Realizing where she had stopped, Raoul blushed and looked at her-the most delicate area of the once little girl he had known so long ago underneath his very fingertips. He gently stroked it at first, but then brought his head down, and started to caress it with his tongue.

From where he was hiding, Erik could easily see the glistening pink flesh belonging to his own-Christine. But then that boy came down again, and she was once more hidden by his head.

Her back arched and a soft, pleasing groan escaped from her lips. Was this boy giving her more pleasure than he himself had given Christine? He didn't remember.

But now, the boy's blonde head arose from the wet mound of Christine, and looked at her. She was heavily breathing, enjoying what he had been doing. But then his fingers went in, and she screamed. Erik stood up, panicking until he saw her eyes filled with pleasure. He couldn't take this anymore. He jumped form his dark corner and left, taking his time, as a part of him didn't want to leave Christine in the hands of that boy.

Raoul put his hands over each of Christine's breasts, and she squealed in delight. She traced the outline of the waistband of his pants, and lightly tugged on them. He quickly discarded them, and Christine saw him.

But to her, Erik was... no. She wasn't going to compare Erik's manhood to Raoul's. Raoul asked her quietly, "Are you sure about this, Christine?"

At first she was hesitant, but then she remembered how cruel Erik had been to her. She nodded. Raoul eagerly thrust in, even causing searing pain to Christine.

She gave a light scream, and in the distance Erik stopped. It was the voice of an Angel-his Angel, but he knew she wasn't in trouble. It was just one more pleasurable moment that brought Christine and Raoul even closer together.


	22. Tears of Hate

**Please do not be under the impression that Raoul is raping Christine. They are each willing, including Christine. I just don't think Raoul would ever rape Christine-he was her childhood sweetheart! He's just a little eager and inexperienced, and isn't taking into account that it just MAY hurt Christine. Plus I think it would be a little cruel to have had Christine get raped by Carlotta and THEN Raoul. Thank you! :)**

They were both exhausted, and they never ate the supper they had came there for. They fell asleep peacefully instead, Christine snuggled against Raoul, who had a protective arm around Christine's bare, pale body.

Christine woke with a start, forgetting where she was. Then she felt a sleeping someone next to her, and thought it was Erik at first, but then she saw a flash of blond hair. She sighed inwardly, secretly hoping that it was Erik.

* * *

Erik sat down on his bed and just began to cry. He didn't even care anymore; this just couldn't be happening. And Don Juan was tonight-how was he going to act with Christine after what he had just witnessed?

* * *

That night came too quickly, and Christine was already pulling on her Don Juan gown. The sleeves were as uncomfortable as ever, and she felt too seductive to be anywhere near Erik. She heard the audience clapping outside and heard the beginning already starting and gulped. After the short introduction, she and Erik would go on.

Christine clipped the rose into her hair and slipped on the gold toe rings and bracelet. She was ready on the outside, but on the inside, the constant hard beating of her heart reminded her of what she had to do next.

She went up to wait behind the wings, the introduction finishing just minutes after she got there. Christine positioned herself onstage, a basket or red roses at her hands, reminding her even more of Erik.

The curtain rose, and his voice shook her out of her thinking. It was him, this was now, and he was serenading her. He was approaching her, and, even though she could recognize that voice from anywhere, she turned from her sitting position to look at him. Not that she had been expecting him to look different, but he was the exact same Erik that she had made love to so long ago.

He brought his finger up to his lips to silence her in case she decided to cry out. The audience didn't need to know about what had happened between him and Christine.

He began moving closer and closer to Christine, and then she could feel how close he was to her, his soothing voice almost repairing all of the wounds they had created with their harsh words to each other. Then he wrapped his arm around Christine, who hadn't been expecting it at all. His arm brushed against her breast, sending tingles up and down her spine at such an intimate touch. He ran his hands across the bare area above her breasts and down her other arm, clasping his hands around hers. Then he came up behind her again, and ran his hand across her face and also finishing his solo.

She was so entranced by his actions that she was a few seconds late beginning to sing her solo. Her eyes were still closed peacefully as she began to sing, and only opened them when she began walking up the stairs. He was walking up on the other side, but she wanted him with her now, to touch her and explore her body. But a face in the audience caught her eyes. Raoul. She had forgotten about him, forgotten about her succumbing to him last night, and a blush crept over her face. How could she think about Erik's touch and then remember last night with Raoul?

_"Just say you love me every waking moment. Or you will curse the day you did not do, all that the Phantom asked of you"_, he glared into her eyes and sang softly so the audience wouldn't hear.

"I can't, Erik. Not after..." she started, forgetting that everyone was watching them.

"After making love to that boy?" he asked, and, pulling a lever, they fell through the hole that opened up in the floor for them.

Christine could hear the crowd and performers scream above them as Erik grabbed a torch and pulled her back into his lair.

"What are you doing? Haven't you caused enough trouble in the opera house? And... for me?" Christine yelled at him, as her rose clip fell to the ground and her curls became wild and twisted around her face.

"And haven't you done the same to me, my little whore?" he asked her as they continued to run to his lair.

They finally reached it and he pulled yet another lever to lower the gate back into the water. "Can't you just forget about me for once? Raoul asked me to marry him this morning-does that mean nothing to you?" Christine said. His insult had sparked a feeling she had ever felt before inside of her.

"I figured that boy would do that. And yes, Christine, it means everything to me", he said, and tossed a piece of fabric at her. "Here, put this on. Surely after what you have done, undressing in front of a man can't be that hard", he growled.

"No, I can't do it", she said to him, and tossed the dress back at him. He caught it and forced it into her hands. "You _will _do it. Now", he whispered in her ear threateningly. Something about his voice told Christine that she had to do it, and she closed her eyes in embarrassment and unhooked the deep burgundy colored corset and it dropped to the floor.

He watched her with forceful and threatening eyes as she continued to undress. She pulled the white blouse over her head, her eyes still closed. Slowly, she pulled her skirt off. Christine began to pull the dress Erik had given her over her head when his strong hand stopped her. "No. Take your corset off too-you'll need to be able to run easily". His words scared her, and made her worry where in the world they might be going.

Closing her eyes once more and pretending that he wasn't there watching her, Christine undid the ribbons that tied her corset and last piece of clothing. It dropped to the floor with a hollow clunk, and Erik took this short chance to examine his angel's body, the one he had been hungering for ever since he had first seen it and touched it. His eyes came to rest on her womanhood, which was pink and... glistening.

"It seems the student wants her teacher", Erik said. He knew he was making her horribly uncomfortable, but he didn't care. She deserved it.

"What...?" Christine said before she realized what he meant, and then she blushed. She tried to tug on her dress, but he stopped her once more and caught her in a kiss. She struggled to turn her face away from him, and hadn't noticed his wandering fingers.

They went in without any warning, and Christine screamed in pleasure. "You certainly do want me, don't you?" he sneered again.

Christine hated how her body was reacting. It certainly wasn't what she felt inside. Inside, she was screamed with horror. What was her Angel really going to do?

He pushed her onto the floor. "Has my Angel turned into a demon?" she asked him, gasping for air and he harshly squeezed her breasts and licked them.

He didn't reply, and instead thrust his fingers into her again. But this time, she somehow managed to control herself and pushed his fingers away.

"Christine Daae, I know you like it", he whispered to her. She ran away, as far as she could get away from him, which wasn't as far as she would've liked.

"Go away! Leave me alone! I thought you were my Angel. I was wrong. Have you been pretending this whole time? I never imagined that my Angel would... rape me", she cried.

Christine collapsed where she was standing. Erik rushed to her, but her eyes wouldn't open. Her nipples were swollen and a trickle of blood ran from her sex. Amazed that he hadn't noticed it before, her ribs, collarbone, and hipbone were even more prominent than ever. Christine had always been small and skinny, but this seemed unhealthily skinny. Was his Christine dying?


	23. Turning Her Back

**By the way, since they didn't know about depression during this time period, that is what Christine is suffering from; they just don't know it. And I just have to rant about something-I ORDERED THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA PIANO BOOK FROM THE MOVIE ONLINE! I'm soooo excited, and hopefully it will be challenging. So anyway...**

With one sweep of his arm, Erik caused the little drawstring bag of heroin to crash to the floor. It had caused him to rape the only person he ever loved or cared about. It had caused him to add to sickness the doctor had told him about-the one Christine had. It was supposed to have killed him long ago, but, oh, God could be so unforgiving.

Erik just couldn't end his life. After he had seen Christine and Raoul together like that, he had been stopped on the street coming back to the opera house by an old peddler. He hadn't been interested at all until the words "take you out of your misery" was spoken by the old gentleman. Erik had bought enough to sustain him for at least a week, and had taken more than half of it that morning.

After Christine's collapse, Erik had speedily ran her to the nearby doctor, who, after he had checked Christine and was sure that she was only in an amazingly deep sleep, had even offered to check on Erik, whose eyes had already almost sunken into his head and some of his skin had already began to peel. But Erik had refused-he had only wanted the doctor to look after Christine, not him.

Luckily for Erik, the doctor hadn't questioned Christine's nudity (besides that, the bruises on her breasts and heaven knows where else) when he brought her in, but Erik had watched the doctor check Christine. He had been so paranoid that if the doctor had touched her in _any _intimate way, even on accident, the doctor himself would have needed a doctor.

Now, Erik had just poured all of the rest of the heroin into the lake, and looked up to see someone standing at the gate, dripping. "I knew you would come as low as drugs", Raoul sneered as he gripped the steel bars that kept him from running to Erik and strangling him.

Erik was shocked. The drugs were probably still wearing on him; he was usually so precise with his hearing.

"But enough of that. Where's Christine?" Raoul demanded. His fiancée was no where to be seen.

"She's not here", Erik replied.

"What do you mean she's not here? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO CHRISTINE?!" Raoul screamed.

"I love her just as you do-even more, much more. But..." Erik debated on whether he should tell Raoul about where Christine really was. He sighed. Christine would never forgive him after what he did to her. She would love to see Raoul when she woke up, and he definitely owed her something after that.

"She collapsed. She's at the doctor's. Maybe if you had kept an eye on her, she wouldn't be there now. Christine is quite sick", Erik broke the news to Raoul.

"Oh God, Little Lotte!" Raoul stared into the distance. His pet name for Christine made Erik gag. She would only be his Angel, nothing else.

"I swear, if you had anything to with this, you won't live any longer!" Raoul threatened him, then ran off.

Erik felt a twinge of guiltiness at his words. He _partly _had something to do with it, and he felt horrible. He was sure that when the drug finally wore off, he would feel the constant, pounding, pressured guiltiness of what he did to Christine.

* * *

Christine woke up to find Raoul entering the room-what room, she didn't know-that she slept in. Now that she was rested, she saw no need to be in here, as she felt fine. She felt pain shoot through her sex, and quickly cupped a hand over it, and remembered. Erik. She would never forgive him for what he did to her. She knew that Raoul would never do anything like that to her.

"Christine! I was so worried! How are you feeling now?" Raoul stroked sweaty curls out of her face.

"Better", she quietly told him.

"Did he do anything to you?" Raoul demanded from her.

At other times, Christine would be outraged with this question, but now, she just didn't want to think about Erik at all. She turned her head away. "Raoul, please don't. I don't want to talk about it. Not now", she pleaded.

Raoul cursed under his breath. "I knew it. He said he didn't do anything, but I didn't believe him. He did do something", Raoul muttered, and then the doctor came in.

"Miss Daae, I haven't found out what is wrong with you, but you do need to get a lot of rest and eat. You weigh much less than you are supposed to at your age and height. I advise you to stay here until further notice", the doctor said.

"Thank you... but I have to perform... Faust. The managers will hate it if I don't play the part, Monsieur", Christine begged him. He didn't know what he was talking about. She felt fine, really.

"Unless your managers have no heart, which I'm quite sure they do, you will be forgiven. I'm sure they will find a replacement. Good day, Mademoiselle", the doctor bowed his head and left Raoul and Christine alone.

"Little Lotte? I'll bring some of your things over here from the opera house", Raoul offered. He knew that she would feel bad about not performing in Faust.

"Thank you Raoul. And please, I dislike him as much as you do, but please, don't go near Erik. He might even kill you", Christine said, looking genuinely worried.

"I can't make any promises Christine..." he said, his eyes now ablaze with anger.

"No, please. I don't want... you... to get hurt", she said, almost saying "either" instead of you. Why should she cared what happened to that monster? But a little spark of something inside her told her otherwise... she decided to ignore it.

"Alright, Christine. Please do what the doctor says. I love you", he said, kissing Christine. They emerged.

"I love you too, Raoul. With all my heart".


	24. Explanations

**Hey everyone! I need your opinion please, and if you would be so kind as to leave said opinion in the comments, I would love it and it would be greatly appreciated! :) So, I have to make a Renaissance dress, and being the obsessed POTO fan I am, I wanted it to resemble Christine's Point of No Return dress from the 2004 movie (the stage version would be too complicated to make). I'm having difficulties trying to decide if it is similar enough to Renaissance dress to make (not an EXACT replica) something like it. Pictures can be easily found on Google Images. Thank you so much, this will be so helpful! I hope you like this chapter :)**

Erik couldn't stand it. He had hurt his Christine, and he was too cowardly to just go ahead and end it. It was pathetic. He considered seeing her, but then made excuses to not go. But finally, he decided to go and see her afterwards. Maybe if Christine had enough hate for him, she would end it for him.

He arrived at the doctor's soon after making this decision, and snuck in without the doctor even noticing. He opened the door to the room Christine was in and then closed it softly behind him, and turned around to see her.

"Who...? Oh my God it's you! I can scream if I have to. The doctor's nearby so I wouldn't try anything, and Raoul should be coming back any minute", she said, her voice shaking.

"No, Christine please. I was..." he trailed off. He was about to say that he had given himself drugs, but was too ashamed to admit it. He had come a long way from being her angel.

"You were what? Going to force yourself on me? As I told you before, I can easily scream", Christine said, covering herself. She didn't have anything on... she hadn't come with anything on.

"Christine, I didn't mean to hurt you..." Erik said, walking closer to her.

All of a sudden her eyes welled up in tears. "Please. Don't come any closer. I would think that you've had enough", she looked away, biting her lip.

He quickly closed his eyes, as if to shut away the thought that yes, yes he _did _really do that to Christine. It hadn't been a nightmare.

"I trusted you and even... loved you. That feeling has left me, and any feelings I may have for you still is cold hatred. You were my _Angel. _Now what are you? The devil?" Christine cried.

"No. I'm the Devil's Child", he murmured under his breath so Christine couldn't hear.

"What are you saying? Why can't you just leave? Go find another poor girl to satisfy your hunger. Please, leave me. I can't..." she said.

"Christine, please understand..." Erik said.

"No, Erik. I've tried to understand you, honestly. I've given you many chances; I know what you've been through. But this... how can I forgive you?" she asked.

"Christine. If you would just let me explain... but you don't want me to. I wouldn't go against your wishes, because I love you and always will", Erik confessed again.

Christine wanted to tell him that he had gone against her wishes many times, but then she heard the sound of a carriage. Raoul. "Erik, go. Raoul is here. You're lucky you left before he came to the opera house-who knows what he would've done to you. Go, please. And... don't come back".

Without another word, Erik left through the window. Those words had hurt him quite a bit. Did she really mean it, though? He didn't want to believe it, but he knew inside that it was true. He would leave her alone. God forbid, it would torture him worse than any of the many tortures he had endured, but he would stop seeing Christine.

* * *

Two weeks later and after all performances of Faust were over, Christine was ready to leave. Raoul picked her up and put her into the carriage. He was relieved to see his beautiful Little Lotte healthy again. There was color in her cheeks once more, and she hummed and sang constantly. She was back to her healthy weight, the doctor had told him, and was acting much more cheerier.

Christine was so happy that she felt better now. Erik had kept his promise and hadn't seen Christine once after that visit, and therefore she felt more safe and happy. She could even sing now, without thinking of her teacher. Carlotta had indeed played the lead role in Faust, but Christine knew better than to approach her about it when she arrived once more at the opera house.

"One week, Raoul. Only one week. And then it will be gone-waking up in that old building. But it will be for the best", she said, holding onto his arm.

He smiled. It was their wedding in one week. Christine would live with him as his wife after the marriage, but would continue performing in the opera house. He knew that this may be looked down upon by other ladies and couples, as Christine should be keeping house, and, in their opinion, soon becoming a mother. But Raoul knew how happy she was at the opera house, and he couldn't bare to tear her away from her passion of singing and acting, so she would continue there.

"You don't have to live at the opera house for that week, Christine. You're welcome to stay... in the guest bedroom until we get married", he said awkwardly, and then cleared his throat.

"Oh, I know, and thank you very much for offering, Raoul. But I'd rather savor the end. Not really the end, though. But I won't get to see everyone as often, so I would like to make it last. Make the good thing last until the better thing comes along", she said, smiling ravishingly at Raoul.

They arrived at the opera house and Raoul helped Christine off. The carriage driver gathered up her solitary bag and followed them from a distance as they walked into the opera house.

Raoul dropped Christine with a deep kiss to go about some business, and Christine began to cheerfully unpack her things.

_"Think of me. Think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Imagine me. Trying too hard to put you from my mind..."_ Christine sang softly.

"Oh, how things have changed, Erik", she whispered sadly. Now that she could think clearer, she knew how much he loved her. And now that she was marrying Raoul...

She stopped unpacking and looked at the mirror. Why was she doing this?

_"Am I to risk my life to gain the chance to see you?" _Christine cautiously touched the mirror.

Christine easily found the tiny lever to open the mirror, and, grabbing a candle, went through. _Why am I doing this? Hadn't I told him to leave _me? She thought to herself. She shook her head at her own actions and continued until she came across a boat, which she boarded. Seeing Erik row the same boat many times, she easily managed.

As she turned the corner, expecting the gate closed, she was surprised. The gate was open, and Erik was no where to be seen. Only one candle was lit, and even that one was more than halfway burned down. Only the light from the grates made it visible enough to maneuver. Cobwebs hung in the most random places, and as Christine ran her fingers over his piano, a small layer of dust coated her fingers. She furrowed her pretty brow in worry, and pushed back the dusty curtain that led to his swan bed.

"Erik!" she whispered softly. He lay on his bed, eyes closed, and she thought he was dead until she saw the smallest rise and fall of his chest, covered by dirty, white fabric.

She rushed to him and put the candle down on the small table next to his bed. He still hadn't awakened. She found a small, tattered piece of cloth on the floor and searched for some water. She couldn't find any, so she had to resort to the river around her. She soaked the cloth in the freezing, cold water and put it over his forehead.

He sat up with a jolt and his eyes shot open. He took in a quick, shallow breath, but didn't say anything.

"Erik", Christine said, stroking his unmasked face.

She gently tried to push him back down, but he was persistent and remained sitting up. "I have died, haven't I? And I have gone to hell. Christine, your image is torturing me... it is hell", Erik rasped in an anguished voice.

"No, Erik. You're still alive. Don't worry. I don't know what happened to you, but I'll help you", she told him gently.

He snorted. "Christine? It may look like you, but Christine would never say anything like that to me. She hates me, I know she does. Heroin made me rape her..." he looked off into the distance.

"Oh, Erik! You're not well. Please, listen. It _is _me, Erik. It's Christine", she said, stroking his face again.

"I realized, Christine. I just, can't believe... but why? and how?" he asked her, standing up. He wobbled on his feet, but managed to stay upright.

"Wait Erik. Wait a little bit first", she said, and gently helped him back onto the bed.

"I don't understand", he said, looking confused.

"Was that true, Erik? The part about... the heroin?" she asked him quietly. She pushed the hair out of his face, and he closed his eyes under her touch.

He looked away. "That's what made me do it, Christine. I couldn't take it-couldn't take the pain of not being able to be with you. I through it in the lake afterwards", he said, embarrassed.

"Erik", she breathed. "I wish you would have told me that at the doctor's. Maybe... maybe things would have turned out differently", Christine told him.

"But Christine, things can still change. We can find a way", he said, reaching for her soft face.

She turned her head away. "No, there isn't a way", she whispered.

"Christine?" he asked her, and this time tried to hold her hand, but she pulled away once more.

"No, Erik. Please don't", she told him.

"I'm sorry I did that to you Christine. I suffered too. I felt so horrible after..."

"That's not it. Erik, in one week, Raoul and I are getting married".


	25. One Last Goodbye

**Hi everyone! So there is a little bit of singing in this chapter, sung with the same tunes as songs from POTO, but with lyrics made by me. The lyrics are pretty pathetic (I'm definitely not a lyric writer :/ ) but it conveys the idea. I just liked the idea of the similarity of the actual play/movie and this story-it adds to the "emotional appeal" of "NO THEY'RE PARTING WAYS!" through singing. So enough rambling, here's the next chapter :)**

He just stared at her. He didn't say a word, didn't even move for a bit. He just stayed there, staring, until she could see once more the heavy rise and fall of his chest.

She stood up, cleared her throat, and started lighting other candles with the candle from the bedside table. He pulled her back down so she sat on the bed.

"How, Christine?" was all he asked her, the grip on her arm from him strengthening with each breath until it began to hurt Christine.

"Please, Erik. I have the right to get married. Let go, please. It's beginning to hurt", she asked him, and he let go. She continued to light up his lair once more.

"But to him, Christine? That boy?" Erik said, still a disbelieving look on his face. He stood up as well so they stood looking at each other from either side of the bed.

Christine put down the candle stick and began to straighten out the bed, wanting to hide her face from Erik. She expected her hands to shake as she pulled back the covers, but they were confidently still; the opposite of what she felt inside.

"'That boy' is very kind to me. I love him, and he loves me. Therefore, we're getting married", Christine said simply, hoping that her voice wasn't shaking.

_"I gave you my music, and made your song take wing. And now, how you repay me: You turn and fall in love", _he sang to her, staring at her as she finished making his bed. She straightened up, and was surprised to see her perfectly calm.

"I..." Christine choked out. "We've been through so much, Erik. It would be so hard, so impossibly hard, to... to live together, and maybe even start a family. It's just... it can't work", she said, and looked up at him.

"But I love you..." he trailed off.

"Yes, and I loved you too, once. But love doesn't have to be permanent. It can change. When Raoul and I are married, you can manage to get along. You may even find someone else", Christine told him, as if she was a mother talking to a child. A twinge of something at the last sentence she spoke confused Christine (maybe jealousy?) but she ignored it and listened to him speak.

"God, Christine. If only you knew, really knew, the love I have you and feel for you. But you have no idea. You saw what happened to me after not seeing you, for what, less than a month? Without you, I am no Angel of Music", Erik said, and looked at her once more to find tears glistening in her eyes.

"You may not be the Angel of Music, but without me, you can still be The Phantom of the Opera, Erik. The man everyone looks up to out of respect. It's not easy for me to leave, either. Leaving my teacher-no, not my teacher, you were much more than that. Madame Giry was a wonderful mother to me, but you took me out of my loneliness-gave me the will and ability to sing, and, as singing has become a great part of my life, of course I would never forget my teacher, the one who started it all", she managed to say through her tears.

"Yes, your teacher, Christine. And your companion. But there wasn't anything more to that, was there? All of it... there's no real, actual love, the kind between a man and a woman, in those words. Yes, maybe admiration for a teacher, but there was no love", he said.

Christine shook her head-the real reason she did this was unknown to Erik. "Erik, I have to go. If you want me to, I can come back to make sure... that you're doing all right. But please believe me when I say to you that I'll miss you, Angel", she said, and walked over to him.

His ears perked at those words. When was the last time she had called him her Angel? "No, Christine. Don't torture me any longer. You don't have to come back", Erik shook his head. And turned to face her.

Christine took up her candle once more and looked at him. "Good bye Erik", she said, and walked out.

* * *

But that was not the last time she visited Erik. The night before the wedding, she said good bye to him-a real goodbye, a proper goodbye.

Dressed in only a small, simple white dress with straps as sleeves and her hair wild and down, Christine walked into Erik's lair, peering around the corner. He sat at his piano not playing or anything, but just sitting there.

"Erik?" she called softly in her melodic voice. He turned excitedly at the sound of her voice, but when he saw her attire, he quickly turned back, a blush releasing throughout his face.

"Christine. I thought I told you to leave me", he said gruffly.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But it's my last night staying at the opera house, and I wanted to properly say goodbye to you", she explained simply.

She approached his place at his the piano bench and rested her hands on his shoulders. He closed his eyes in rapture, forgetting that she was to be married in less than a day.

She let go. _"Angel of Music, I wish to thank you. For everything you've given. Father once spoke of an Angel. I used to dream he'd appear. Then, when I thought he was with me. It was you all along!_" Christine sang to him, her beautiful voice echoing throughout the bowels of the opera house.

"Christine", he sighed. She caressed his masked face, and leaned to kiss him right on the lips. She stopped after what seemed like forever.

"If Raoul ever found out I did that... but Erik, thank you. That was a thank you, for everything you've done, everything you've given me, and everything I've learned from you. God, bless you. You've been through so much... and yet are still able to show affection. I will never forget you. I..." Christine paused. She was about to say "I love you". Not that she did, but it had just seemed appropriate and natural to say so.

"I love you for doing all of that for me. Goodbye, Erik. I will truly miss you", she said. He still hadn't said anything, and Christine got up to leave.

"Christine", he started, and Christine stopped walking away to turn to face him.

"Christine... will you still be coming back to the opera house?" he awkwardly asked her.

She smiled her most beautiful smile ever given to him and lightly nodded. "I won't live here any more, but I'll try to perform. Probably small parts, but I'll still be here sometimes. Not as often, though", she softly told him.

He nodded and turned back to the piano, and she left without another word. He didn't see it, but she looked back so many times as if hesitant to leave once and for all.

Once Christine had left, Erik composed a piece, written through all the sorrow, love, hate, sadness, and affection he had for Christine. If anyone were to hear it, they would say that it was the best and most beautiful he had ever composed.


	26. The Wedding

Christine soon became cheerful once more when Raoul came to pick her up shortly after her last visit to Erik. She knew that she should be excited to be Raoul's bride, and she was, but as she turned to face the opera house for the last time as a regular girl, nothing more.

She felt a pang of sadness, and oddly enough, it wasn't because of leaving the opera house-it was because of leaving Erik.

* * *

Christine stomach fluttered as she examined herself in the mirror. She could already hear the clamor of the guests in the main church area. Raoul had invited only close family, so there wouldn't be that many people, but that wasn't what Christine was worried about. She was worried if she made the right decision.

The dress looked painfully close to the one Erik had made her-only less detailed. But that didn't matter, because she was happy with Raoul and the fact that they were marrying. In five minutes.

Christine hair was weaved into a crown with a white flower pinned at the back. Smaller, simpler white flowers were weaved into her hair.

Madame Giry poked her head into the room. "My darling you look beautiful", she told her, and stepped inside the room completely. Christine nervously smiled and looked down.

Madame Giry was out of her usual black attire and wore a lavender colored gown.

Three minutes later, Christine was standing side by side, next to Raoul, everyone gathering excited breaths...

_"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory. Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor. Sharing in my triumph!" _came a voice from above, and then, it was dark. All the candles had blown out.

Christine eyes widened as she felt Raoul leave her side, and tingles went up and down her spine when she realized who had been singing. That voice, so familiar, so entrancing... there was so much meaning in those words.

"Angel", Christine whispered. A woman screamed. Christine felt a tight arm squeeze around her waist to pick her up. She tried to scream, not knowing who it was, but no sound came out. She was so scared, she didn't know what to do.

The person carrying her ran into a room, far back from everything else, so old and unused that it as covered in cobwebs. Christine saw a glimpse of white and almost fainted.

"It's you", she whispered.

"I couldn't let you marry that idiot", he grumbled, pulling chairs and a table against the door.

"You ruin everything in my life don't you?" Christine said simply, her voice choked with anger and sadness.

"Only things that ruin my life, Miss Daae", he said, trying to avoid looking at her. She looked breathtakingly beautiful with the flowers weaved into her hair, and he didn't want to go weak at the sight of her.

Christine just watched Erik as he secured the room. "I didn't think even you would do this", she sad to him.

"Put this cloak on, cover your head. Besides the fact that you won't be as recognizable, it's raining outside", he said gruffly. He threw a brown cloak at Christine, who put it on. There was pounding at the door, and Erik opened a door that Christine hadn't noticed earlier. He grabbed her arm and helped her onto a black horse... the same one they had rode...

Erik got on after helping Christine on and rode as fast as they could back to the opera house. Christine held on to Erik's muscular body as tight as she could to avoid falling off.

They rushed into Erik's lair. It was so calm, and Christine almost forgot that everyone was searching for her. "Erik, you make it impossible for me to even try to forgive you!" Christine cried.

"We can't part ways. I would die", he responded.

"Erik... Raoul and I were so happy together. I was still going to come back to the opera house..." Christine reasoned.

"You _thought _the both of you would live "happily ever after". Is that correct? But thoughts of your Angel would constantly stalk you, and then your marriage to Raoul may not be as happy as it seemed", Erik said.

"No, you are exactly correct. I would be haunted, afraid that everywhere I go alone, you would be waiting for me... just like you were at the church", she quietly said.

Christine hid a yawn with her hand and took her cloak off. Her hair flew wildly around her face from the rough ride over. The candlelight reflected off of her glowing, sad face, and it also brought out gold tints in her chestnut locks. There was a small tear in her wedding gown, but Christine didn't seem to notice. Erik thought she looked beautiful.

"I assume I'm staying the night", Christine said wryly as she brought her fingers through her tangled hair.

"Yes. Their still looking for you, and the only entrance there is is the gate you see there in the water, and they wouldn't dare burn it down with you here. I guess it's the safest place for us right now", he said.

"The safest place for _you, _maybe. The safest place for me right now would be with Raoul", Christine said with disgust.

Erik shook his head. "If you're tired, I brought some of your things down. You can take my bed", he said awkwardly, and Christine saw him blush.

"Thank you", she said kindly, realizing how odd this was for him, too.

He looked at her, surprised at her kind tone towards him, but she was gone.

Christine easily found her nightgown on the bed, and the consideration of his actions made her smile. But then she remembered that, by now, she would be a wife to a wonderful man.

She folded her wedding gown and ran her fingers over the soft fabric. Raoul had barely even seen her in it. She sighed.

Christine tiptoed back to where Erik was. "Goodnight, Erik", she said.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. "Goodnight Christine", he replied, and turned back to his composing.

Christine sighed (had she wanted more than a goodnight from Erik?) and settled into the very familiar swan bed. Sleep washed over her, and she drifted into a dreamless, cold sleep.


	27. Either Way You Choose, You Can Not Win

**Lyrics and characters are not mine-those belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Sorry it's such a short chapter-but I think it did it's job. :)**

Christine woke up that morning, confused as to where exactly she was until she saw the outline of Erik in the room. She sat up in bed.

"Erik?" she asked.

He jerked his head towards her, and in the pale candlelight, Christine could see him blush on the unmasked side of his face. "I'm sorry Christine. I just had to get some of my things", he stammered.

Christine smiled. "That's all right. It was very kind of you to let me sleep here tonight", she thanked him. Despite the fact that she was here against her own will, it was actually very kind indeed.

He left in a hurry and Christine splashed her arms and face with the cold water that sat in a bowl on the table next to the swan bed. After that, she changed into the wedding gown that lay at the foot of the bed, not being able to find anything else to wear.

Erik looked up when he saw her come through the deep red curtains. "I could only find your nightgown-you left it behind, and everything else you had already taken with you", he explained.

She nodded and sat down next to him on the piano bench. "Would you play something?" she politely asked him.

"Only if you would sing, Christine".

Christine jolted in surprise when he began to play opening notes of a song she knew too well. But, she had asked him to play and he had asked her to sing, so she began.

_"No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide-eyed fear. I'm here. Nothing can harm you, your fears are far behind you"_, Christine sang, brushing away a random tear that had been produced at the memory of Raoul singing those same lines to her.

Christine heard a splashing in the water, but ignored it and continued to sing. _"Say you love me every waking moment, turn my head with talk of summertime", _Christine sang, and, being so lost in the music, leaned against Erik, who relaxed at her touch.

_"Christine I love you_", came a voice from behind them. Erik's beautiful playing came to a halt and Christine quickly turned around, transferring her hands onto Erik's back and shoulder.

_"Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest! Sir"_, Erik said, and he looked up towards the gate to see that fop standing there.

"Raoul!" Christine rushed to the water's edge, taking in the sight of Raoul, soaking wet from the lake.

_"This is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come. And now, my wish comes true. You have truly made my night", _Erik snarled at Raoul as he held on to Christine roughly.

"Let me go!" she cried to Erik.

_"Free her! Do what you like only free her! Have you no pity?" _Raoul pleaded.

_"Your lover makes a passionate plea", _Erik said, still holding onto Christine.

_"Please, Raoul. It's useless", _Christine reasoned with Raoul. She wasn't going to let him get hurt.

_"I love her! Does that mean nothing? I love her. Show some compassion", _Raoul again pleaded with him.

_"The world showed no compassion to me!" _Erik pulled off his mask and pointed to his face. Raoul shrank back in horror, but Christine remained unfazed. She had never been truly afraid of his face.

_"Christine, Christine. Let me see her", _Raoul continued.

_"Be my guest, sir", _Erik said, and pulled the lever that opened the gate.

"No!" Christine shrieked at Erik, and tried to stop him. But it was too late, and Raoul walked in. Along with twenty armed police.

_"I tried so hard to free you", _Raoul sang to Christine, a smirk on his face. Christine ran to Erik and pulled him away from the guards, but then they grabbed a hold of Christine and pushed her away, and held Erik down.

Christine struggled, tears running down her face, but the guards were too strong for her. She managed to get close enough to Erik to whisper three words to him. "I love you", but then she was whipped away, Erik stopped struggling to look at Christine with disbelief at her statement.

The police pushed Erik through the water roughly.

Christine screamed as he was knocked over the head for his constant struggling.

"ERIK!"

**Than you guys so much for going on this journey of Christine, Erik, and Raoul with me! It was truly a pleasure to write, and has even led me to be writing a sequel as well! I just couldn't leave this story, and loved the idea of ending it with a cliffhanger. Thank you so much once more, and be checking back for a sequel, which I hope to start later today! Thanks for the support**

*****##mockingjay08##*****


End file.
